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THE 



STAR OF SEVILLE 



A DRAMA. 



IN FIVE ACTS. 



BY MRS. BUTLER 



(LATE MISS KEMBLE.) 




LONDON 
SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET, 

1837. 






\i*»^ 



LONDON: 
IBOTSON AND PALMER, PRINTERS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND. 



TO 

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 

LADY DACRE, 

Ws pap 

IS INSCRIBED, 
IN TOKEN OF GRATEFUL REGARD, 

BY 

THE AUTHORESS. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



I Nobles of Seville, 



J- Merchants of Seville. 



Alphonso, King of Spain 

Don Pedro de Roella, 

Don Carlos de Valentar 

Don Gomez, the Kings counsellor. 

Don Arias, the King's cousin. 

Count Lomaria. 

Geronio, 

Antonio, 

Vasco, Antonio s son. 

Curio. 

Valentine. 

Rodriquez, a monk. 

Petruchio, Don Pedro s servant. 

Hyacinth, Antonio's nephew. 

Sancho, his servant. 

Lawyer. 

Gentlemen, Lords, Courtiers, Alcades, Servants, fyc. 

Estrella, Don Pedro's sister. 
Florilla, Geronio s daughter. 
Isabel, Antonio's daughter. 
Ursula, Estrella's Nurse, 
Don Pedro s Page. 



STAR OF SEVI LLE 



A C T I. 

SCENE I.— A STREET IN SEVILLE— THE HOUSES 
WITH TAPESTRY AND GARLANDS HUNG 
UPON THEM. 



Geronio discovered in front of stage — People towards 
the back, Pedrillo, on the balcony, hanging 
tapestry over it. 

GERONIO. 

Now, my masters ; stir, stir — be busy ! let us be 
ready at the first gun that fires : Pedrillo, hang me 
those garlands round the balcony ; — so — very good ! 
Now draw me the tapestry closer over the wall, and — 

Enter Antonio. 

ANTONIO. 

And quarter thee 



2 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

GERONIO. 

How now, neighbour ; where is Vasco ? 

ANTONIO. 

He's away to the east gate of the city, to watch for 
the first cloud of dust that shall rise on the road. 

GERONIO. 

He will not be alone there, I warrant me. 

ANTONIO. 

No, by St. Jerome ! the road, the river, and the city 
walls, are covered with such multitudes, that when the 
King does come, he and his nobles must manage their 
horses daintily ; else, by my fay ! some of his loving 
lieges will pave his way to our good city. 

GERONIO. 

Those wreaths will scarce have time to wither, I 
should think : now for a flag to wave from the balcony. 

ANTONIO. 

Where is your daughter ? 

GERONIO. 

Not slumbering, neighbour, as you may believe ; she 
was up before day-dawn, decking herself, but whether 
for your son or the King — 

Pedrillo descends from balcony. 

PEDRILLO. 

There, Senor, I think your house will look as gal- 
lantly as any in the street. 

GERONIO. 

Then away with thee, and thy fellows ! Away with 
you, all that have nimble legs and young breath, to 
watch for the King. 

[Exeunt Pedrillo and People. 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 3 

Enter FLORiLLA,/rom house. 

GERONIO. 

Why, here she is ! 

ANTONIO. 

Good morrow, Mistress Florilla ! How wags the 
world with you so early in the day ? 

FLORILLA. 

Kindly enough, I thank ye, sir; where is Vasco? 

GERONIO. 

Ah, Florilla ! his loyalty hath ta'en the start of his 
love, I think. 

FLORILLA. 

What ! hath he not been here ? 

GERONIO. 

No, daughter ; he's gone to meet the king. 

FLORILLA. 

How ! before coming to ask tidings of me ! — to see 
me ! Hath he been waking but the tenth of a second, 
and not been watching under my window ? 

ANTONIO. 

Nay, pretty Mistress Florilla, your anger is less than 
just ; Vasco loves you passing well. 

FLORILLA. 

But his love for the King passes that passing well. 

GERONIO. 

Now, neighbour, hast ever a tongue in thy head ? 

ANTONIO. 

Ay, marry ; I had, once, as good as my son's ; so I 
may e'en try for once what he will soon have to abide 
for ever. Young mistress, my son hath never, in one 
single point, since now three years he hath been court- 

b 2 



4 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

ing you, failed in observance of the smallest matter, 
duty, attendance, reverence, worship, love. 

FLORILLA. 

All this is true, and that is why I'm anger'd. 

ANTONIO. 

What, that he hitherto hath loved you so ? 

FLORILLA. 

No, but that now he loves me so no more. 

ANTONIO. 

You are unjust. 

FLORILLA. 

He's taught me to be so. 

ANTONIO. 

Such accidents, at oftenest, rarely happen. 

FLORILLA. , 

Oh, then, I thank you ! Fine, indeed I I find your 
son loves me when he hath nought else in hand. 

ANTONIO. 

But the King. 

FLORILLA. 

An' he like to marry the King, then, in place of me, 
he may. 

GERONIO. 

Ha ! ha ! smartly hit, girl ! Now, neighbour, are you 
fairly breathed ? 

ANTONIO. 

A nimble tongue, good faith ! I'll say no more, for 
here comes Vasco, and he'll reason with her in another 
sort, I trow. 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 5 

Enter Vasco. 
vasco. 
Good morrow, father ! With your leave, Master 
Geronio. Why, how's this, mistress? d'ye give me 
your shoulders ? 

GERONIO. 

You shall see, now, how he will argue with her : 
marry ! 'twill be a most controversial point. 

ANTONIO. 

Heaven help him ! 

GERONIO. 

Let alone ! he hath hands and lips of his own, and 
heaven's a needless third in such a case. 
vasco. 

Oh, faith ! I will not be greeted thus. How now ! 
art sullen ? what have I done ? how angered thee ? 
Wilt answer me ? What, dumb ? Heaven bless thee ! 
we'll be married to-day ; nay, I've no time to spare. 
Father, bid guests, for we'll feast to-night at the An- 
chor. Senor Geronio, if your daughter be willing, 
mayhap you'll bring her with you ; I'm hence again. 
I have to go and hire me a horse to ride down to the 
river ; and, moreover, to leave this breast-knot at Mis- 
tress Bella's. 

FLORILLA. 

What's that ? 

VASCO. 

So ho ! so ho ! my dainty damsel, hast found thy 
tongue ? Now, then, thy hand ; come, come, no bar- 
gaining ; — and now thy lips. Why, that's well ! that's 
well ! 



6 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

GERONIO. 

Oh ! neighbour, neighbour ! for the good old days ! 

ANTONIO. 

The good young days, you mean : but, psha ! they 
live them o'er again for us. 

VASCO. 

And here is a breast-knot for thee, Florilla, shall 
make the King and all his nobles blink : come, put it 
on, and think no more of Mistress Bella than I do, 
wench. 

ANTONIO. 

And now, where hast thou been, and what learnt ? is 
the King coming — how and when ? 

VASCO. 

The King is coming ; he'll be here at noon — messen- 
gers have been riding on, to say as much ; the whole 
city has turned itself inside out, and gapes with its mil- 
lion eyes and mouths, as tho' it would devour his High- 
ness when he comes. But, psha! I prate; the nobles 
and alcades will, anon, down to the river-side, to assist 
at the landing ; and if I be not there, what think you 
the majesty of Spain will say ? Fare thee well, sweet- 
heart ! when thou seest me again, 'twill be among 
shouts, trumpet-blasts, and welcomes, — plumes, peers, 
and princes, — uproar, din, and confusion ! (sings.) 

Bella is fair enough, they say ; 
But a plague of her coal-black eyes for me ! 
Sing hey down, down, on a dreary day ; 
Ne'er a one do I love as well as thee ! 

(He goes off, arid returns.) 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 7 

Now a murrain on that shell'd pease-cod, my head ! 
Father, I have a letter for thee ; one riding post-haste 
to town gave it me, and a faithful keeper I had liked 
to prove. 

FLORILLA. 

Vasco ! Vasco ! where' s Isabel ? 

VASCO. 

Gone to the Lady Estrella's to help old Ursula. 
Oh ! and I must tell ye, there will be great rejoicings 
there to-morrow, for Don Carlos hath asked her of her 
brother, and Isabel is gone to help to prepare all things 
for the wedding ; — she's a fair lady ! there's not such 
another in Seville ! 

FLORILLA. 

And he's the very man deserves such an one : Heaven 
send them all happiness ! 

VASCO. 

Amen, little devotion : and the same to us, when the 
physicians shall pronounce the case similar. Sing, hey 
down, down ! 

[Exit, singing. 

GERONIO. 

There he goes, for a rare madcap ; cheating a weary 
way with a merry lay, as the old burthen hath it. 

ANTONIO. 

Oh, neighbour, we are like to have a new acquaint- 
ance here ; this letter's from my brother, a wealthy 
merchant in Segovia ; his son, I find, hath preferred a 
courtier's plume and rapier to the counting-house, and 
is coming here in the young King's train. 



8 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

FLORILLA. 

How ! shall I have a courtier to my cousin, when I 
am married to Vasco? 

ANTONIO. 

Marry, that shall you, and a ruffling gallant he'll 
prove, if my brother speak true ; but it is near upon 
noon, and yonder come the worshipful alcades, and the 
Count Lomaria. 

Enter Alcades and Lomaria. 

FIRST ALCADE. 

Yes, sir, 'tis as I say ; the late King was too old, too 
infirm, indeed. How now, my worthy masters ! good 
morrow ! I pray you rejoice to-day, and let your sons 
and 'prentices keep the peace in their rejoicings, if it be 
possible : Mistress Florilla ! 

LOMARIA. 

Ha ! pretty mistress ! how fares it with you ? 

SECOND ALCADE. 

Well, sir, the late King had grown somewhat close 
and chary of his presence, but now that his son is come 
among us, we shall — 

[Exeunt, talking. 

Enter two Lords. 

FIRST LORD. 

Indeed, those imposts were intolerable ; but now — 

SECOND LORD. 

The young King will sweep away all such grievances ; 
he will restore the privileges of our order, and keep the 
mud from soiling our ermine, — 'twas time he came. 

[Exeunt, talking. 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 9 

Enter Curio, Valentine, and a party of Gentlemen. 

CURIO. 

Are you bidden ? 

VALENTINE. 

Yea, faith ! and as I take it, 'tis writ by the fair 
hand of the fair Estrella. 

THIRD GENTLEMAN. 

The bride ; she will be the fairest that ever wore a 
ring. 

CURIO. 

Some men do lie in the sun their whole life long, with 
ripe grapes dropping into their mouths. 

VALENTINE. 

Art thou such an one ? 

CURIO. 

Would to heaven ! No, if I would be warm I must 
light my own fire ; and if filled, cook mine own meat ; 
but Carlos was swathed in luck, and rocked in the very 
lap of good fortune. 

THIRD GENTLEMAN. 

They say Don Pedro gives the best part of his estate 
in dowry with her to his friend. 

VALENTINE. 

He loves her beyond the usual affection of a brother : 
for her sake he has led as it were the life of an hermit, 
devoting his whole mind unto the tending of hers ; and 
refraining from all the temptations of prosperous wed- 
lock, that she might meet no rival in his affections. 

CURIO. 

I am persuaded that in nothing has he shown so 
much his care and love of her, as in the giving her to 



10 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

Don Carlos, for the parting will leave him utterly 
bereaved. 

VALENTINE. 

He carries it bravely, however ; there will not have 
been so sumptuous a feast in Seville, since it called itself 
by name. 

"THXED GENTLEMAN. 

I'm glad of it ! We shall have merriment in all abun- 
dance now; for, by the mass! a young king makes a 
young court : we shall laugh again ere we grow old. 
Oons ; this Seville might have been a city of monks, or 
the thrice holy and gloomy Inquisition itself, for aught 
that has been done in it for the last two years. 

CURIO. 

No women ! 

VALENTINE. 

No carousing, but in a corner. 

THIED GENTLEMAN. 

No diceing, but in the dark. 

CURIO. 

But now we will lead other lives, I trow; we will 
make day-light blink with our bravery, and the night 
shall reel like a weak-brained toper after his sixth cup ; 
now come the days of moonlight serenades, rope ladders, 
wine, wenches, drinking, dancing, diceing, and the 
devil ! 

ANTONIO. 

Oh ! the saints ! here be eyes for spying you out the 
advantages of the time. 

GEEONIO. 

Come, mistress, come, go in. 



S cene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 11 



CURIO. 

Ah ! mistress Florilla ! 

VALENTINE. 

A prize ! and so fair a one, already. 

THIRD GENTLEMAN. 

By St. Eustace ! a most inviting eye ! 

ANTONIO. 

Gentlemen, good now, I pray you — 

THIRD GENTLEMAN. 

Old gentleman, we were not speaking of your's. 

GERONIO. 

Go in, daughter, go in. 

[Exeunt Antonio and Geronio, with 
Florilla, into house, 

CURIO. 

Miserly'old churls ! the wench wanted to stay. 

VALENTINE. 

Ay, faith ! with thee, mayhap. 

CURIO. 

With me, — why not, sir, pray ? I spoke first, whiles 
you stood gaping three yards off. 

VALENTINE. 

You are a quick man with your tongue, we know. 

CURIO. 

A quicker with my hand, as you shall know. 

(Strikes him.) 

VALENTINE. 

Death and damnation, (They fight.) 

THIRD GENTLEMAN. 

Hold off, gentlemen ! Curio ! Valentine I they'll raise 
a riot. 



12 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 



Enter Don Pedro. 

PEDRO. 

How now ! what's here to do ? why, gentlemen, 
Is't thus you usher in the happiest day 
That ever shone on Seville ? 

CURIO. 

Stand aside, sir. 

Ill finish out this bout. 

VALENTINE. 

You are in peril, Don Pedro ; stand from between our 
swords. 

PEDRO. 

Your pardon, Senor Valentine, I will not : 

Now, gentlemen, come, thrust away ! How's this ? 

Have ye forgot your quarte, your tierce, your parry ! 

Or is it that you think my flesh and blood 

Better worth saving than your own ? For shame ! 

To stand here snarling like two angry curs, 

When everything looks peace and holiday. 

Is't thus with fast clench 'd hands, and rapiers drawn, 

You mean to greet the King ? By my good faith ! 

'Tis a fair sample of our Seville manners, 

And on your part, indeed, "'tis most sincere; 

You will not palm yourselves upon his highness 

For peaceful, sober citizens ; not you : 

But fill the streets with swaggering brawls to-day, 

That he may know at once your quality. 

THIRD GENTLEMAN. 

Come, piece this quarrel up. 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 13 

PEDRO. 

Shake hands, and sheathe your swords. 

curio. 
Well, there's my hand. 

VALENTINE. 

And mine, with all my heart ! 

PEDRO. 

Amen, amen. And now in peace depart. 

THIRD GENTLEMAN. 

Yonder's the first gun, the king's boat's in sight. 

CURIO. 

Are you coming down to the river P 

PEDRO. 

Presently. 
I have some matters to despatch at home, 
But I shall join you, ere the landing. 

[Exeunt Gentlemen, 
A goodly crew ! and yet these are the sons 
Of our first houses here in Seville ; all scions 
From our stout forest trees. Heaven save the mark ! 
I think we'd better spirits in our day 
Than these same noble street-fighters give promise of : 
And 'tis another argument that tells me 
I have done well in hedging my fair flower 
Within the guarded fence of holy wedlock ; 
Yet hold I fearfully my die in hand, 
Dreading to cast it, lest it fall amiss. 
Carlos loves her, that's something; she loves him, 
That's more, much more : I fain would think 'tis well 
And yet my fond affection, like a coward, 
Pries into the far future for some danger, 



14 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

Howe'er remote or shadowy, to start from. 
Oh ! I have ventured my dear treasure forth, 
And tho' the sea and sky look smilingly, 
I almost wish it back again in harbour, 
Dreading a thousand shoals, and reefs, that are not, 
Save in the treacherous soundings of my fear. 
Now, good old friend, thine errand ? 
Enter Petruchio. 

PETRUCHIO. 

Heaven save your noble honour ! thus to call me. 

If years of service, that I wish were trebled, 

And my heart's love, would for your use 'twere younger, 

Deserve in anything so good a name, 

Pm not in everything an undeserver. 

My lady, sir, bids me inform your lordship, 

She will be married by her confessor, 

And not the lord archbishop, your good uncle : 

Don Sanchez is sore sick, and cannot come, sir, 

To the wedding ; but he greets your honour by me ; 

And to my lady sends this diamond, 

Wishing her every future happiness. 

PEDRO. 

Think'st thou she can be happier than she was, 
Petruchio ? Dost thou recollect one wish, 
Or word, or look, or veriest thought of her's 
I've not obey'd — obey'd, forerun — prevented ? 
Dost thou not think my sister lov'd her home ? 

PETRUCHIO. 

My dear kind master, there's nought dwells about you, 
Bufs blest ; and if on those whose lowly station 
Puts them at furthestfrom your influence 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 15 

It still shines warmly, as a kindly sky, 

My lady, who is locked within your soul, 

Fram'd in your heart, shrin'd in your treasured thoughts, 

Must bear a thankless mind, — but ah ! she does not, — 

If she requite not thousandfold your love : 

But you forget, sir, a young maiden's heart 

Is a rich soil, wherein lie many germs 

Hid by the cunning hand of nature there 

To put forth blossoms in their fittest season ; 

And tho 1 the love of home first breaks the soil 

With its embracing tendrils clasping it, 

Other affections, strong and warm, will grow, 

While that one fades, as summer's flush of bloom 

Succeeds the gentle budding of the spring. 

Maids must be wives, and mothers, to fulfil 

Th' entire and holiest end of woman's being. 

Your pardon, honour 'd sir ; but I remember 

When my right noble mistress, your fair mother, 

Was married to the Count your father, marry time , 

I was a youngster page, and held her train, 

Something to this same tune, the priest who married 

them 
Spake at the altar — but I prate too boldly. 

PEDRO. 

Thou'st spoken well, old faithful ; I would see 

My sister made a loved and honour'd wife ; 

A blest and happy mother, and to-morrow 

Will crown these hopes. I am content to lose her ; — 

But now thy further errand ? 

PETRUCHIO. 

Sir, Don Carlos 



16 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

Is gone to meet the King ; but on returning 
Would speak with you at home : IVe been 
To bid your guests, to order the musicians, 
To 

PEDRO. 

What, was there no younger foot to trudge 
On all these weighty quests, but thine ? 

PETRUCHIO. 

Marry, 

They're all gone forth to choke up the King's path ; 

Besides, I love to do my lady's errands, 

And grudge my waning strength and swiftness most 

Because I may not now so often hear 

Her gracious thanks, or gentle bidding, or, 

Returning weary, be o'erpaid my toil 

By her sweet voice and smile. 

PEDRO. 

Ay, there it is ! 
We all shall lose our very best of life, 
Old servant, when that gentle soul departs. 
Thou'lt lose a mistress, I, a sister, wife, 
Child, mistress, all that in love's catalogue 
Nearest and dearest is : but it is well ; 
And being well, 'tis scant philosophy 
To wish it other. Get thee home, and rest ; 
I'm for the river side to meet the landing. 

[Exeunt. 



scene ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 17 



SCENE II.— THE RIVER SIDE. VIEW OF SEVILLE. 

Enter the King, Don Arias, Don Gomez, Lords, 
Gentlemen, Courtiers, §c. 

king. 
Hail to fair Seville ! to our goodly town, 
Which in the golden sunshine smiles so bright ! 
Of all the cities in our vast dominions, 
Which we have progressed through, — albeit in arms, 
In commerce, and in learning high renown'd, 
Famed for the bounteous gifts of lavish Nature, 
Or for the arts which had drawn interest from them, — 
None ever, on our first beholding it, — 
Appear'd so fair as yonder Seville seems, 
Girt with her orange groves, whose balmy breath, 
Stirr'd by the morning's wings, e'en here salutes us, 
And wound around with the enamoured arms 
Of the Guadalquivir ! 

ARIAS. 

It seems, in sooth, 
A pleasant city, and your highness means 
To rest here long ? 

KING. 

As long, coz, as may serve 
To make our onward path appear more sweet. 

ARIAS. 

The people seem most loyally inclined. 

KING. 

Ay, faith, their welcomes made the shores resound 

c 



18 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

Long ere we came in sight. Loyal, good troth ! 
If shouts, which rent the harmless, yielding air, 
Shook either bank, and in his hollow bed 
Awoke the river God, which must have damaged 
Our lieges' throats, or we are much deceived, 
And our own ears, — if this be loyalty, 
You shall not find a truer set of subjects, 
More noisy loving, in the ui.iverse. 

GOMEZ. 

'Tis said this mighty and unruly concourse, 
Tumultuously thus poured abroad, has caused 
Broils not a few, and bloodshed. 

KING. 

Odso ! true, 
We had forgot ; but thou rememberest us, 
Thyself reminded by too fresh a grief, 
That we designed to have, on our arrival, 
The use of swords and arms prohibited, 
While we sojourn in Seville ; gentlemen, 
Ye must divest ye of these warlike gauds ; 
We have not yet forgotten Saragossa, 
Whose streets, to welcome us, ran down with blood 
Of jostling youngsters, fighting by the dozen, 
Where this, our very friend and counsellor, 
Was, by ill chance, made childless by the slaughter, 
Of a fair only son, such strife prevailed ; 
To prevent which, let instant proclamation 
Be made through Seville, that on pain of death, 
No one presume armed to walk abroad 
During the time of our abiding here. 



scene ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 19 

See to it, Gomez; gentlemen, come on ! 
We halt upon the threshold. Seville, ho ! 

[Exit, with train. 

Enter Hyacinth and Sancho. 

HYACINTH. 

Never credit me, Sancho, if I don't think thee more 
stupid, yea, more obtusely, intensely, and impenetrably 
thick-skulled than ever man or woman was before thee. 

SANCHO. 

You may think so, sir, and say so, too ; 'tis ever the 
way when you are perplexed at aught ; when you have 
on colours you love not ; or a sword-knot that sits not 
well, or an over-tightened shoe, — you call me hard 
names, and so make matters better ; but, Master Hya- 
cinth. 

HYACINTH. 

Don Hyacinthus, blockhead ! 

SANCHO. 

Don Hyacinthus, blockhead ! 

HYACINTH. 

Thou apish varlet ! have a care ! I shall commit a 
mischief. 

SANCHO. 

On your new hose, mayhap, if you lunge too wide ; 
but as I know that, for the soul of you, you cannot run, 
I'll speak my mind at this good distance, thus — and then 
take to my heels. When you left Segovia for Seville, 
your father bestowed on you much good advice, your 
mother, a purse of gold, and me for servidor ; since 
which time I have not ceased to toil in your behalf; 

c 2 



20 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

but, sir, you have grown out of all behaviour, and 
my service beyond all endurance. I will no more be 
owed my fees by you ; I will no more go strutting at 
your heels in your cast-off apparel, which do make me 
the scoff of all eyes, nor devise, at every new town 
we come to, the monstrous lies you blazon yourself 
forth in. 

HYACINTH. 

Thou speakest not the thing that is; id est, thou 
sayest the thing that is not ; "'tis I devise, and thou hast 
not even the wit to utter them. 

SANCHO. 

'Tis conscience chokes them in the utterance. 

HYACINTH. 

Take this, and clear thy conscience's throat withal ; 
nay, honest Sancho, pray thee help my hand into my 
pocket, Sancho, for my mother's sake, who bade thee 
watch over me, Sancho. 

SANCHO. 

Nay, if you touch the virtue of compassion in me, 
'tis only there I'm weak. 

HYACINTH. 

Oh ! thou art all compassion ! Here, here be thy 
wages for the past, and this I give thee as an earnest ; 
— art thou touched ? 

SANCHO. 

Marry, pierced to the heart ; master, what shall I do ? 

HYACINTH. 

Get thee on to Seville, to a house of resort, called 
the Anchor, with those same things thou bearest upon 
thy back ; be heedful of the straw-coloured mantle, 



scene ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 21 

good Sancho ; and, Sancho, I pray thee look to the 
pink hose, lest they be crushed. When thou shalt have 
safely lodged my apparel, not without some observation 
to attract notice and importance, made whilst thou art 
unpacking of them, in hearing of the guests, the 
hostess, or even the drawers ; such as, " Ay, marry ! 
he's a gallant that owns this mantle ; the ladies do 
mightily affect him;" remember that. 

SANCHO. 

Infect him, — I shall. 

HYACINTH. 

Or this — " These hose he wore upon the very day the 
Countess, what name thou wilt, so it be long enough, 
and end in a 

SANCHO. 

Antarididlearida ? 

HYACINTH. 

Mark me, the Countess 

SANCHO. 

An tari— plague on't, I have forgot ; Antilly — I have 
forgot the name I found — Antunedonypesthemopora. 

HYACINTH. 

Well, well ; M did so beseech him to supper," — dost 
mark ? 

SANCHO. 

Oh, sir, 'tis an oft taught lesson ; the maids that have 
run from their wits, the wives from their lords, and 
the widows from their weeds, for the love of you, I 
have noted in a book ; and in another leaf, the brothers, 
fathers, husbands, lovers, and guardians, that, by your 



22 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

valour, were brought as low as their honour was by your 
love. 

HYACINTH. 

Good, then ; con but o'er thy task, and say it off 
glibfy. Well, having deposited my suits, inquire out 
one Antonio, my uncle, aa orange merchant of great 
note in Seville ; greet him from me, and tell him I shall 
see him this very night ; that he may look for me : and 
then, good Sancho, get thee to thine inn again, and 
wait there until I come to attire me. 

SANCHO. 

I will not fail. [Eooii. 

HYACINTH. 

My purple suit, with orange slashings ; ay, that shall 
it be; I marvel what manner of man my uncle, the 
orange merchant, is ; he hath a fair daughter, they 
say, — 'tis not to be doubted she will love me ! My 
purple suit, a courtier withal ; moreover, I will spread 
the news abroad, that besides being a most resistless 
wooer, I'm bound in promise to some high-born ladv in 
Segovia, who pines for my return. There's nothing so 
becomes a man, or makes him to be so sought after by 
women, as knowing that he hath triumphed over all but 
one ; and that from that one, he is in honour bound not 
to stray ; for 'tis to be thought that whatsoever for- 
tunate fair seduces him from his loving allegiance, hath 
the double delight of winning his heart and breaking 
his lady's. My purple suit — curse on these galling 
shoes ! — with orange slashings, and my fire of Egypt 
mantle ! IE wit. 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 23 



SCENE III.— AN APARTMENT IN DON PEDRO'S 
HOUSE. 

Flourish of drums and trumpets without. Enter 
from Balcony^ Estrella and Don Carlos. 

ESTRELLA. 

I shall be jealous of your loyalty, 

If it come so near the boundary of love, 

Carlos. 

CARLOS. 

Thou can'st not ; for although the King 
From me receives the utmost of affection 
That man can give to man ; the love I bear thee 
And him, are in their natures so distinct, 
So separate, and several in their essence, 
That thou might'st all as soon say that a rose 
And any other flower were of a kind, 
Because they both spring from the earth, have roots, 
Leaves, sap, and blossoms, bud and fade alike : 
And bear, indeed, some common properties; 
Though not the same. 

ESTRELLA. 

A pretty sweet defence ! 
As good as a nosegay ; I shall wrangle with thee 
By the hour, if thou'rt so apt at argument ; 
But for the King — ■ — 

CARLOS, 

Is he not a fair gentleman ? 



24 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i 

ESTRELLA. 

Oh, for his outward man, thou did'st in nought 

O'er-praise him ; certes, he's a goodly gentleman ! 

Of the height I love ; the complexion that most pleases 

me ; 
The very air and carriage I am fond of; 
His eyes, and hair too, the colour I most fancy. 

CARLOS. 

Here's a panegyric ! 

ESTRELLA. 

You're merry, sir! I thought youM have me praise 

him ; 
Is't not to the height, or shall I straightforth deify him 
Into a very galloping Apollo ? 

CARLOS. 

Nay, love, leave jesting, and speak earnestly. 

ESTRELLA. 

Earnestly, then ; I ne'er saw goodlier gentleman, 
Or one whose outward givings better spake 
The worth you oft have told me lies within : 
He's very young to be a King. 

CARLOS. 

Two years, 
Aye, just two years, poorer in life than I; 
We w r ere as like two brothers, my Estrella, 
]\lore like than many that do call one woman mam. 
My father was the old King's oldest friend ; 
Counsel in peace, and service hard in war, 
Earned him the name, and from the earliest time 
Alphonso spelt the rudiments of life, 
We grew together; riding, hawking, tilting; 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 25 

And in the graver lessons of our youth, 
With friendly strife, and kindly emulation, 
We studied side by side. The heathen twins, 
Whose starry image nightly to our eyes 
Is hung in Heaven, were not more true a pair 
Of loving friends, than he and I were then. 

ESTRELLA. 

How fell this loving friendship to its end ? 
Wert thou the apter scholar of the twain ? 
Or— for that's worse, and less to be endured — 
Could'st thou ride better in a crowded ring ? 
Sing better 'neath a silent balcony ? 
Did you both love one lady ? Or, perhaps, — 

CARLOS. 

Fll spare thy fancy other random shots : 

Thus fell the chance; the old King's bastard brother, 

Don Alvar, — you have heard of him ? 

ESTRELLA. 

O yes; 
The man our nurses made us good withal — 
The Iron Bastard he was called. 

CARLOS. 

He was. 
Mispractices of his, affecting the state's health, 
And very life, came to my father's knowledge, 
Who straight before the whole assembled council 
Charged him withal ; he stood upon his trial, 
But ere the proof was found, death passed his sentence 
On judge and criminal alike ; the King, 
And this same villain Duke, died suddenly ; 
Alphonso vaulted in his father's seat, 



26 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

And moved, I think, by th' entreaties of his cousin, 

Don Arias, Alvar's son, broke off the suit, — 

Forbade all further search or speech upon it, 

And had the matter quash'd ; though on my father 

Not only fell the blame of the defaulter, 

But the ill-savour of false accusation, 

Having sworn that whose proof did ne'er appear. 

ESTRELLA. 

That was but ill, and would go hard to prove 
Your idol King nor just, nor very grateful. 

CARLOS. 

Ah, my Estrella ! 'tis not fit we judge 

Too hardly of our fellows, whose own souls 

Bear witness hourly to ten thousand frailties 

Which stand unanswered in the sight of Heaven ; 

And least of all, should we be prompt to doom 

Those who upon the precipice of power, 

Swath'd in state trappings, over which they trip, — 

Run in a path all briery with temptations 

Still plucking at their skirt as they pass by : 

Something of coldness fell upon the spring 

And sunshine of our love, from this event ; 

But as it sank into Time's shadowy lap, 

The warm affection of our schoolboy days 

Revived : and since, against that injury 

I weigh my life, which, but for the King's arm, 

At Talavera I had paid the Moor : 

He came between me and mine enemy, 

When not so much of daylight shone betwixt us 

As would have served to read an ave by ; 

The steel that should have dived into my breast 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 27 

Grazed his, — his blood, th' anointed blood of Spain, 

Flow'd o'er me, and in that royal stream 

I was baptized to as firm a faith, 

As dear a love, and true allegiance to him, 

As e'er the waters of the holy fount 

Can buy from new-made Christian soul to Heaven. 

ESTRELLA. 

Oh ! I will love him better yet than thou ! 
I do no longer blame thy loyalty, 
But rather think it plays the failing debtor, 
Paying but half its owings. But, I pray you, 
How came it that you left the court ? 

CARLOS. 

My father, 
Who now had reached the furthest shore of life, 
Was weary of it ; and, for mine own part, 
This same King's cousin, this gallant Don Arias, 
Having become Alphonso's second soul, 
Though I in nothing bated of my love 
Or dear devotion to his majesty, 
Was the less loath t' obey my father's wish, 
And, casting off my courtier's plume and rapier, 
Came to our ancient home, near Seville here, 
Where I did lay my father with his fathers, — 
Repaired my estate, which absence and neglect 
Had something damaged, — looked to my possessions, 
Became acquainted with thy brother here, 
And since spent all my time in loving thee. 

ESTRELLA. 

A worthy ending to so fair a story ! 
Heaven send thou change not occupation ! 



28 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act 

CARLOS. 

It is not like ; for, in the whole wide world, 
There's no created thing but still of thee 
Discourses to my senses, and my soul ; 
The universe and all its holds of best, 
Is but a comment to thy virtue's volume. 

ESTRELLA. 

'Tis in the approved fashion, then, my dear lord, 
Three pages of a wondrous muddy argument, 
To show one word clear that was clear before, 
And little worth the pains to be made darker ; 
A note most disproportionate to the text. 

CARLOS. 

There's nothing half so fair, or half so holy ; 

There's nothing half so wise, or half so lovely ; 

Nothing so wholly good and excellent, 

As thou, my dear one ! Thou art the very breath 

That in me breathes ; the blood within my veins, — 

Heart of my heart, and spirit of my spirit ; 

My nearest and dearest of life, my essential self! 

ESTRELLA. 

Pray leave protesting, sir, unless you wish 
To burn my blushes out ; I sha'n't have one 
To help me look becomingly to-morrow, 
An' you waste them all to-day. 

CARLOS. 

To-morrow ! Estrella, 

Tell me, tell me, dost thou love me 

As I love thee ? 

ESTRELLA. 

No, by this living light ! 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 29 

Not as thou lov'st me ; not in the self-same way, 
For that's a question I could ne'er have asked thee. 

CARLOS. 

Why not ? 

ESTRELLA. 

Why not ? Because — here comes my brother. 
Enter Don Pedro. 

PEDRO. 

Good morrow, Carlos : Heaven bless thee, dearest ! 

ESTRELLA. 

Oh, you're well come ! his lordship's but dull company 
Of a forenoon, when the weather's warm and drowsy. 

PEDRO. 

Was't thou i' the balcony when the King passed ? 

ESTRELLA. 

Who, I ? — I look from an open balcony 
To see gay cavaliers go prancing by ? 
Fie ! I was in my oratory at prayers. 

PEDRO. 

Ah ! 'tis as easy keep a woman's eyes 
From gazing — 

ESTRELLA. 

As a man's mouth from foul speaking. 
Say I was in the balcony, — what then ? 

PEDRO. 

Wert thou along with her ? 

CARLOS. 

No, I had joined 
The train at the city-gate, and rode along 
Thus far, but left the royal pageant here. 



30 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

PEDRO. 

Ah ! that's well thought on ; there's a say abroad, 
That riding up to the landing-place, some words 
Passed 'twixt you and the Bastard's boy, Don Arias. 

CARLOS. 

Oh these long ears of the many ! No such matter ; 

The path at the landing being narrow, the King, 

Out of his grace, and loving welcome to me, 

Drew my bridle towards him, — in the doing which, 

Don Arias, who was riding at his side, 

Was fain to back from the straightness of the road, 

And that's the words we had. 

PEDRO. 

It may make some. 
And when thou wert at prayers in th' oratory, 
Wert thou attired thus ? 

ESTRELLA. 

Beshrew my heart ! 
But thou'rt in the very mood of curious questions. 
No, I had on a yellow farthingale, 
And a green jacket, and a scarlet mantle, 
Pick'd out with blue and pink ; — what then ? 

PEDRO. 

Why then — 

Umph ! then there were some danger in those eyes. 

Carlos, there is a banquet held at the palace 

At set of sun, in honour of the King ; 

Thou'rt bid. 

CARLOS. 

I cannot answer that same bidding ; 
For ere sunset I must be many miles 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 31 

Towards Valentar. All is not yet prepared, 

Nor in the fitting order I would have it, 

To welcome well the lady of its lord. 

I love that dear old home ! My mother lived there 

Her first sweet marriage years, and last sad widow'd 

ones ; 
Something of old ancestral pride it keeps, 
Though fallen from its earlier power and vastness : 
Marry ! .we're not so wealthy as we were, 
Nor yet so warlike ; still it holds enough 
Of ancient strength and state to prompt the memory 
To many a " wherefore," and for every answer 
You shall have stories long and wonderful, 
Enough to make a balladmonger's fortune. 
Old trees do grow around its old grey walls, 
The fellows of my mouldering grandfathers : 
Faith ! they do mock us with their young old age, 
These giant wearers of a thousand summers ! 
Strange, that the seed we sow should bloom and flourish 
When we are faded, flower, fruit, and all ; 
Or, for all things do tend to reproduction, 
Serving th' eternal purposes of life, 
Drawing a vigorous sap into their veins 
From the soil our very bodies fertilise. 

ESTRELLA. 

You have left your home that is, for that which will be ; 
Pray you, some more of that same ancient dwelling. 

CARLOS. 

Nay, I have said too much on't ; but that there 
The sunlight seems to my eyes brighter far 
Than wheresoever else. I know the forms 



32' STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

Of every tree and mountain, hill and dell ; 
The waters gurgle forth a tongue I know, — 
It is my home, it will be thine, Estrella ; 
And every leafy glade, and shadowy path, 
Sweet sunny slope, and echo-haunted hollow, 
Hath heard thy name a thousand, thousand times. 

ESTRELLA. 

They're all the likelier to be weary of it, 
Unless they hold a longer constancy, 
As well as life, than men. 

PEDRO. 

Then thou wilt not 
To-night to the palace. 

CARLOS, 

No ; but thou wilt, Pedro. 

PEDRO. 

Indeed, his Highness pressed me so severely, 
'Tis the best word for such strained courtesy, 
He left me scarce the choice to stay away. 

ESTRELLA. 

And wherefore should'st thou ? 'twill be such a sight 
As Seville hath not seen this many a year : 
I would the King had bid me to his banquet. 

PEDRO. 

So would not I : — indeed I cannot tell ; 

I am not apt to fall in sudden love, 

Or sudden loathing, without further reason 

Than fancy's humorous promptings, or exceptions, 

But there is that about this beardless king; — 

Faith, he'd have made a better page to a lady, 

And, if all tales be true, have liked the service. 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 33 

CARLOS. 

That he is young, argues him not unfit 
For his high office ; for the healthful vigour 
Of a young spirit should give the life of action 
To those good counsels of his wise advisers 
Which are cold breath upon the lips of age. 

PEDPvO. 

His counsellors, I take it — those he hearkens to — 

Wear brains as sudden and as hot as his, 

Green and sour wisdom, such as oftenest drops 

From sapling bearers, most unlike the ripe 

And mellow fruit of time. The King, besides, 

Hath but an evil name among grave men, 

For the unbounded licence of his pleasures ; 

And Fame doth paint her cheeks with modest blushes, 

Telling how freely riot and excess 

Hold fellowship with stately royalty, 

And shake the prostituted hand of power. 

CARLOS. 

Tis a sore trial to be young, well-favoured, 

And therewithal a King : believe me, Pedro, 

Men thus endowed with fortune's lavish favours 

Need sue but little to win easy loves : 

Nay, 'tis impossible they should escape 

The wooing of the wanton willingness 

That beckons wealth and power. Fie ! 'tis a shame 

To think how women, this good world calls honest, 

Will play the wanton in spirit, if not in deed, 

Flinging aside all modest nice respect 

Of maiden pride, and matron state, to win 

The sway and masterdom of such a one, 

D 



34 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

Buying such hollow trash with their best jewels ; 
Nor is't in nature that a man, whose blood 
Runs warmly through the lusty veins of youth, 
And lifts his spirit, like a bounding vessel, 
Upon the swelling flood of this spring-tide, 
Should, spite of the quick promptings of life's May, 
And all soliciting and yielding circumstance, 
Hold continent sway o'er his unruly passions. 

ESTRELLA. 

Oh ! I commend your charity, my lord ! 

And think it second only to your moral. 

We'll have you fee'd the prodigal's prime advocate — 

King's counsel in the high court of misrule ; 

'Tis a foul cause to be so fairly pleaded ! 

CARLOS. 

Let not my words meet ill interpretation ; 

And least from thee, whose image still hath been 

The very shrine enfolding purity 

Whereto my thoughts bore chaste and constant worship. 

It is because myself have still been kept 

From stain or touch of such licentiousness 

As youth still squanders his best havings in, 

By the all-guarding talisman of love, 

That I am slower to fall out with those 

Who, having no such charm against the devil, 

Are caught i' th^ net. Had'st thou the same respect, 

Pedro, thou'dst not have censured so severely 

Alphonso's frailty. 

PEDRO. 

And how dost thou know 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 35 

I'm not for all the world as much in love 
As thou, for all the justice of my censure ? 

ESTRELLA. 

Art thou in love ? — with whom art thou in love ? 
What is her name ? Is she as tall as I am ? 
Hath she 

PEDRO. 

What say you to my question, Carlos ? 

CARLOS. 

Thou canst not, in the first place, love as I do ; 
For, by this living light, I do love more J 

PEDRO. 

Than ever lover loved his love before ! 

So runs the tale of every Celadon, 

Who ever yet in court, or camp, or city, 

In lighted hall, or sylvan solitude, 

Pour'd forth his soul in the self-same comparison, 

That served our grandsire in his garden bower 

E're murder came in fashion. 

■ CARLOS. 

Oh ! Pedro, pardon me; thou ne'er didst love ! 
'Tis writ in the smooth margin of thy brow, 
And in the steady lustre of thine eye. 
Thy blood did never riot through thy veins 
With the distemper'd hurried course of love ; 
Thy heart did never shake thy shuddering frame 
With the thick startled throbbing pulse of love : 
Thou hast ne'er wept love's bitter burning tears ; 
Hoped with love's wild unutterable hope, 
Nor drown'd in love's dark, fathomless despair. 
Thine is a stedfast and a fixed nature, 

d 2 



36 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

"Gainst which the tide of passion and desire 
Breaks harmless as the water o'er the rock, 
And the rich light of beauty shines alone 
On thy soul's surface, leaving all beneath it 
Unmoved and cold as subterranean springs. 
Love hath no power o'er spirits such as thine, 
Nor comes not nigh to them. 

ESTRELLA. 

Oh ! tell me, Pedro, 
Whom hast thou loved ? 

PEDRO. 

Thee, from thy cradle upwards ! 

ESTRELLA. 

Nay ; but whom dost thus love ? 

PEDRO. 

Thee, more than life ! 

ESTRELLA. 

Flouter, wilt thou not answer me in seriousness ? 

PEDRO. 

Some other time, sweet ; but for that, no matter 

Whether my heart hath bled beneath the dart, 

Or whether there hath stuck no arrow there : 

I know the very difference that lies 

'Twixt hallow'd love and base unholy lust ; 

I know the one is as a golden spur, 

Urging the spirit to all noblest aims ; 

The other but a foul and miry pit 

O'erthrowing it in midst of its career; 

I know the one is as a living spring 

Of virtuous thoughts, true dealings, and brave deeds — 

Nobler than glory, and more sweet than pleasure, — 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 37 

Richer than wealth, begetter of more excellence 

Than aught that from this earth corrupt takes birth, 

Second alone in the fair fruit it bears 

To the unmixed ore of true devotion : 

I know that lust is all of this, spelt backwards ; 

Fouler than shame, and bitterer than sorrow, 

More loathly than most abject penury — 

Nor hath it fruit or bearing to requite it, 

Save sick satiety and good men's scorn. 

He that doth serve true love I love and honour ; 

And he that is lust's slave, I do despise, 

Though he were twenty times the King of Spain ; 

Wherewith I do commend me to your favours, 

And leave ye to your parting undisturbed. 

Carlos, at what o'clock wilt thou return to-morrow ? 

CARLOS. 

Two hours ere noon my horse shall get him wings. 

PEDRO. 

An hour ere noon we fix the wedding then ; 
'Twill give thee time to rest, and make thee brave. 
Farewell, my brother ! 

ESTRELLA. 

Oh ! wilt thou not tell us 
Something of thy fair lady love, dear Pedro ? 

PEDRO. 

Some day when I shall sit between you two 
At Valentar, with a young round-eyed nephew 
Upon my knee, I'll tell ye all the story, 
And how it fell that I at length resolved 
To have no wife nor mistress, child nor heir, 



38 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

Save this fair baggage, Heaven save the mark ! 
Who hath cost me as much trouble as them all. 

[Exit. 

ESTRELLA. 

And loved thee for them all, my kindest brother ! 
Oh ! Carlos, thou must love me well, indeed, 
For in myself I give to thy possession 
The child of such a rare and deep affection — 
Oh, thou must love me passing well, dear Carlos ! 

CARLOS. 

Dost thou not think that I shall love thee well ? 

Dost thou not know that in this air-clipped earth 

There's no created thing I love like thee ? 

Tell me — oh ! tell me, sweetest, dearest, best ! 

Dost thou not feel how utterly I love thee? 

Speak to me, dear Estrella ; do not turn 

Thy fair eyes from me — there are tears in them ! 

What have I done ? Have I offended thee ? 

Upon my knees, here at thy feet I'll lie, 

Doing too blest a penance for my sin, 

Till thou forgive me : wherefore dost thou weep ? 

ESTRELLA. 

Oh, nature knows no other coin for joy 

Or grief, but melts them both alike in tears : 

I have a thousand stifling feelings press 

My heart to bursting ; joy to the height of pain 

Comes like a flood upon my every sense ; 

Thy voice runs through my frame like the soft touch 

Of summer winds o'er trembling harp-strings playing, 

Thy gentle words and looks that, though I love, 

I dare not meet, make my soul faint within me. 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 39 

Oh ! Carlos, there is pain in this deep pleasure, 
And e'en our joys taste of earth's bitter root ; 
Besides, there is a thought that, hand in hand 
With the sweet promise of our marriage, comes 
Like shadow upon sunlight — I must go 
From my dear home — the home of all my life, 
Where I have lived, oh ! such a happy time ! 
Aurora's tears are not more like each other 
Than the bright ever-blessed maiden hours 
That the sun of time has, one by one, dried up. 

CAELOS. 

Sweet, let not that darken thy fancy's glass : 
'Tis well when what's to come looks dark and dull ; 
To turn to the past, if haply joy dwelt there 
But by so much as the sweet summer's noon, 
When the earth wears its July pride of blossom, 
O'ertops the fresh and pearl-bedimmed hour 
Of earlier morning in th' unripe year's spring, 
By so much shall thy blessedness to come 
Out-noon thy gentle morn of virgin life. 

ESTRELLA. 

Shall it, indeed ! but then, my brother, Carlos, 
I fear he'll miss me sadly when I'm gone ; 
He says not much, but for the last three days 
I've marked him wander up and down the house, 
Noting my favourite chambers, sitting down 
Where I love best to sit at work or play : 
And then he sighs, good faith ! for all the world, 
As I were gone already. Yesterday, 
As I was singing to my lute to him, 
When I had done he took it from my hand, 



40 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

And passing o'er the last few broken chords, 

Said, " Leave thy lute with me, sweet sister/' Trust me, 

I think he'll be as lonely as a bird 

Without its mate, sad as a silent feast, 

Single as a stray glove, and all as purposeless ; 

And this it is that makes me sorrowful. 

CARLOS. 

Oh ! gentle soul ! — but, hear me, my Estrella : 
When thou art gone from hence, these empty walls 
Will hold but little of his heart ; I'll tell thee— 
We'll make him leave this lonely home of his, 
And come and dwell with us at Valentar ; 
Shall we do this ? 

ESTRELLA. 

Oh yes ! oh yes, we will ! 
Oh ! we shall be the happiest three alive ! 
He, thou, and I, in your old castle hall, 
And such a merry life as we will lead, 
Shall be a very fairy tale of happiness. 
Oh ! 'twill be Paradise ! 

CARLOS. 

It will, indeed ! 
But now I must begone, with all best speed, 
To ope its gates unto its ruling angel. 
Farewell ! mine own. 

ESTRELLA. 

Not so, until to-morrow. 
I am yet mine to-day. 

CARLOS. 

True, my fair queen ; 
Then being thine, wilt thou not kindly grant, 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 41 

What given, is so much sweeter far than claimed — 
One kiss. 

ESTRELLA. 

No, by my faith ! 'twas urged amiss; 
Since I may not to-morrow say thee nay, 
At least 111 keep my privilege to-day. 

CARLOS. 

But why to grant thy privilege not use, 
Since, come to-morrow, thou mayst not refuse ? 

ESTRELLA. 

Because — no, I'll give no reason for the nonce, 
I will not. 

CARLOS. 

Fare thee well. 

ESTRELLA. 

Farewell, my lord. 
Is not your lordship gone ? 

CARLOS. 

Not yet — farewell ! 

ESTRELLA. 

Farewell ! I wish you a fair ride, swift horse, 
Smooth road, safe journey — and what more ? 

CARLOS. 

That kiss — 

ESTRELLA. 

Beshrew thee for a spendthrift that dost make me 
Lose my good time in silly bargaining. 

CARLOS. 

That kiss — • 

ESTRELLA. 

If I should live an hundred years, 



42 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act i. 

I'll ne'er give thee another. 

CARLOS. 

Granted so — 
Give thou but this, I will take all the rest. 
Upon thy soft lips lay I this fond seal 
Unto our plighted faith ; and all blest saints, 
That register the sacred vows of souls 
Moved by chaste love, bear witness to the pledge ! 

ESTRELLA. 

By this first kiss that e'er upon my lips 

Was laid by man, I do as truly give 

My duty, love, and life, to thee for ever ; 

And heaven forsake me when I break this troth ! 

CARLOS. 

Oh ! help me, with thy gentle prayers, to lead 

The crippled hours away that halt between 

Us and our happiness: all angels guard thee ! 

[Exit. 

ESTRELLA. 

Now Heaven bless me for a silly wench ! 

Why he is gone far out o' sight or hearing ; 

'Tis only air I gaze upon so wide : 

By my good faith ! 'tis true I cannot see him. 

To-morrow ! oh ! to-morrow ! — oh, that love 

Held old Time's hour-glass ; for he would shake 

The pouring sand so swiftly through; that day 

Should sink this moment in night's swarthy arms, 

And straight come blushing back to light the world ! 

Come night, quench thou this bright mote-peopled ray; 

Oh ! that to-morrow were but called to-day ! 

[Exit. 

END OF ACT I. 



act ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 43 



ACT II. 



SCENE I.— A STREET IN SEVILLE. 

Enter Curio and Valentine. 

curio. 
Sir, for a ducat, it was as I tell you. 

VALENTINE. 

I was not far behind you, and I saw 
Nothing of this. 

CURIO. 

He pushed his horse athwart Don Arias, 

And ploughed him out o' the path, or I'm a Moor. 

VALENTINE 

What said the King ? 

CURIO. 

You know the King, God save him ! 
Was Carlos' school-day brother, and he seemed 
So glad to bid him hail, that, for the time, 
The favourite's balance kicked the beam. 

VALENTINE. 

Here comes the man : who is he walking with ? 

CURIO. 

The grave old counsellor i' the mourning robe, 
Whose son was killed in a broil at Saragossa : 
So life and death, wisdom and vanity, 
Still in this world go ambling side by side. 
Save your good lordships ! 



44 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act ii. 

Enter Gomez and Arias, 
arias. 
Gentlemen, God save ye. 

GOMEZ. 

But, my lord, if it was as you do think, — 

Or if you think it was as you do say, 

How comes it that you took th' affront so kindly, 

Who are nothing slack to let your blood boil o'er 

On some occasions ? 

ARIAS. 

Let it pass, my Lord ; 
I had my reasons. — Gentlemen, the King 
Has bid me welcome you to his new court, 
And challenge all with courteous kind defiance 
To do him reason in mirth's glittering lists ; 
You are all bid, and will be welcome all, — 
And if you chance to have fair wives or sisters, 
You will be all the welcomer : the King, 
At the good Lord Archbishop's entertained, 
And there does purpose entertaining you. 

CURIO. 

We have our conge. 

VALENTINE. 

Fare you well, my Lord. 

ARIAS. 

Your slave, kind gentlemen. 

[Exeunt Curio and Valentine. 
Sweet Seville manners ! 
Did ye mark that drawl o' the leg in's bow ? 
He bowed, for all the world, as though his body 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 45 

Took me for a pawnbroker, and meant to leave 
His leg in pledge behind. 

GOMEZ. 

I did not note. 

ARIAS. 

You're something blind, I think, 
You're lucky. 

GOMEZ. 

'Tis the twilight time of life with me, 

And then, you know, all objects lose their outlines. 

ARIAS. 

'Tis very fit you should be blind ; the fashion 
In such a matter's not to be neglected, 
And to see with your eyes were such a strangeness 
As would make a most notorious monster of you. 

GOMEZ. 

I am much bound to time; but for all that, 

Would rather ape than own such nice infirmities. 

But pray, my lord, now that we are alone, 

May I be bold again to ask you why, 

Since you conceive Don Carlos hath aggrieved you, 

You backed so readily and bore so christian-like 

The wrong? 

ARIAS. 

Let those who stand upon the verge of power, 
Whose edges are but slippery and unsafe, 
Fear lest the summer wind should blow them off : 
I hold the centre point o' the King's affection, 
And nothing own the jealousy of fear, 
Though something still a sense of injury. 
They were dear school-fellows, once on a day, 



4G , STAR OF SEVILLE. [act ii. 

And my royal cousin loves a new face dearly, 

And his was old enough to be a new : 

They had not met for some six years, I think ; 

But I aoa not in case to hang myself, 

Though Carlos were ten times a better courtier. 

GOMEZ. 

I'm glad your Lordship's laid such good foundation 
In the unsound and shifting sands of favour : 
But, sir — and let it nothing move your anger 
That I am bold to speak my mind to you, 
But rather let my dignity of age 
Stand peer with your more honourable station, — 
You do not 'scape the touch of some reproof 
For the means whereby you've rivetted yourself 
To the King's love. 

ARIAS. 

Ha! what! — there was no witchcraft 
I' the matter. • 

GOMEZ. 

No, I believe, sir, none ; 
But something haply of too broad compliance 
With the King's humours, which, and 'tis no sin, 
Smack of his years. 

ARIAS. 

Now, Heaven save the mark ! 
I am his younger, worthy lord, by twice 
Red autumn's birth-days, and your lordship knows 
I reverence my elders : I protest 
I always look to him for grave examples, 
And nothing doubting, follow those he gives me. 
Oh ! my good lord, my innocence is wounded. 






scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 47 

GOMEZ. 

It hath a gash bigger than its whole body, 

For I think as sorely wounded as it is 

An inch of lint would swathe it round and round. 

But, sir, if you did fairly gain that height 

You hold i' the King's affection, at the least 

You have not used it to such fruitful end, 

For the people's weal, as you had opportunity, 

And 'tis the common voice that you are rather 

The prompter of his highness's too large pleasures, 

The quick deviser of these full excesses, 

Than a mere actor in the revel rout. 

ARIAS. 

Enough ! enough for once ; long homilies 

Are hemlock to me. Used my power for good ! 

Now, by St. Anthony ! I am the man, 

Do keep the King in humour with ye all, 

And 'cause I rather single out o' the fold 

One sheep to throw the wolf, than let him harry 

The trembling flock, they now cry out upon me ! 

They'd better let their King sleep in love's arms, 

Than wake in those of war — taxes, exactions, 

With all the drains through which princes are wont 

To suck the people's blood and substance are unknown — 

And save a dark eyed Donna, here and there. 

The King levies no tribute on the mass, 

Nor asks for other hostage of their loves. 

By my troth, a godly King ! Then, sir, for me, 

I am the fellow at the chimney-corner, 

Who keeps the fire alive that warms you all. 

GOMEZ. 

A very worthy, charitable office. 



48 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act ii. 

ARIAS. 

No sinecure, o' my conscience ! for the most part 
My best reward are blistered fingers' ends ; 
And the people's gratitude right soothing salve. 
He's in some things a very heathenish man 
For a christian King, and hath no more respect 
For what I hold the finest thing in nature, 
A fair bald head, than for a smooth round turnip ; 
A very graceless youth — tho' I'm his cousin. 
Oh ! my Lord Gomez ! I have seen his highness 
Come champing out o' the council, muttering — 
" That bald old fool." 

GOMEZ. 

Of me ! 

ARIAS. 

Your reverend lordship, 
That bald old fool ! Then step I in, d'ye see, 
And fling the golden locks of some bright girl 
Over your lordship's baldness — and your lordship 
Remains in office, and the people profit 
By your lordship's zeal and wisdom in their service. 

GOMEZ. 

A very useful, honourable employ ! 

ARIAS. 

The people, as the muddy spawn is called, 

Are villain slaves, that do not know their friends : 

By my soul ! I'll leave them to the tender mercies 

Of my King cousin ; they had better keep 

His mistresses, than let him be their master — 

But for this same morality you talk of, 

I'll make good use on't, worthy lord, be sure. 



scene ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE 49 

Enter Page. 

PAGE. 

May it please you, noble sir, attend the King. 

ARIAS. 

F the instant. 

[Exit Page, 
Now your lordship sees that I 
Seek not the mountain, but the mountain me ; 
But I'll not fail to give his Majesty 
The very essence of your homily. 
Farewell, old honest lord — good Mumblesaws. 

[Exeunt. 



SCENE II— A CHAMBER IN THE ARCHBISHOP 
OF SEVILLE'S PALACE. 



The King discovered. 

KING. 

'Tis not in nature to outgo conceit ; 
Yet have mine eyes this very day beheld 
That which no fancy ever yet did parallel, 
Though 'twere the rarest weaving poet's brain 
Was ever loom to. Excellent perfection ! 
That did outshine things brightest at their noon. 
The pomp and glittering pvide of glowing rubies 
Look'd pale by the living colour of her blood, 
And, with a glory that outfaced the sun, 
Her eyes at mid-day shone like undimmed stars. 



50 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act ii. 

Enter Arias. 
Ho ! welcome, Cousin ! welcome, my good Arias I 
Answer me briefly, as I question thee. 
Didst mark in the high street, as we rode along 
This morning, at her balcony, a lady ? 

ARIAS. 

I did. 

KING. 

Dost know her name ? 

ARIAS. 

I do. 

KING. 

Estrella? 

ARIAS. 

The same. 

KING. 

Dost know her brother, Pedro de Roella ? 

ARIAS. 

I do. 

KING. 

I love that lady well ? 

ARIAS. 

May 't please you, sir, 
Is that a question ? 

KING. 

Psha ! ay, a score in one. 
How is she to be begged, bought, stolen, wooed, won— 
How can I make her mine ? 

ARIAS. 

Sir, you can marry her. 



scene ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 51 

KING. 

Marry her, good sooth ! That's news. Can I do so ? 

It is not yet the time of life with me 

When I can squeeze myself into the compass 

Of that same narrow gold eternity 

We wed withal. Come, come, to thy inventions. 

I'd give thee a second cousin like thyself, 

Born all as out of rule, and make him a duke 

Or prince, or perhaps a bishop — 

ARIAS. 

Please your grace, 
There is a sin of which I would forewarn you- — 
Incontinence, great sir, 's a deadly sin 
For which, I take it, we shall make dear account 
In flesh and spirit, or I'm ill informed ; 
And, sir, there is a virtue, christened continence, 
Which, like a precious carbuncle, outshines 
All other excellencies. 

KING. 

What's in the moon ! art mad ! 
Sure, thou'st been bit by some half-frozen novice ! 

ARIAS. 

Oh sir ! modesty — 'tis a sweet-favour'd quality ; 
And soberness, and temperance, and chastity, 
Three goodlier graces than the heathen Venus 
Did e'er, in Cyprian groves, disport her with. 

KING. 

Hark thee, my cousin ! thou art out of tune 
With my humour, and I counsel thee 
To wind thy jangling strings to a better pitch, 
Lest we make discord presently, my cousin. 

e 2 



52 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act ii. 

What holy devil art thou plagued withal ? 
We'll have thee exorcised. 

ARIAS. 

By black-eyed, laughing saints 
Then let it be, my liege ! and let them pour 
Wine over me instead of the bless'd stream 
In the abbey fount : — ha ! ha ! ha ! — oh ! my liege, 
Did I not do it well ? for all the world, 
Like a withered abbess who has left all sin, 
When sin, forsooth, will have no more of her. 

KING. 

Too well ; for I would now lose not an instant 
In the furthering of my wishes ; tell me, Arias, 
How can I compass my desire ? 
art as. 

Her brother — 
Is there no jewelled collar-gilded office — 
No bribe of state to muzzle him withal ? 

KING. 

Trust me, I do not think he's such a one 

As can be so tied up ; there's a cold bearing, 

And grave, severe aspect about the man, 

That made my spirit pay him such respect 

As though he dwelt 'neath age's silvery penthouse, 

Despite his unripe years. 

arias. 
Not to be bought ! 
That's strange, and much confounds me; 'tisn't in 
The line of march I am accustom 'd to. 
Not to be bribed ! Perhaps the lady, sir, 
May be as incorruptible as he, 



scene ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 53 

And then our labour's lost i' the hoped-for issue. 

KING. 

All women have their prices ; be 't in gold, 

In honou :s. titles, jewels, gay apparel, 

Or in commodities than these less solid, 

Flatlery, and the light breath of words persuasive. 

Do \\)oa but find the means to approach the fortress, 

My CfO,vn against a straw, it proves no Troy. 

Thcie may be one, among ten thousand men, 

That would not sell his honour ; but the world 

Holds not, nor ever did, nor ever will, 

A woman framed so hard, impenetrable. 

How can we meet ? 

ARIAS. 

Ay, how — when — where — but soft, 

I've found it ; 'tis an excellent device, 

And needs but secresy, and a good wit ; 

The lady's brother comes to-night to the banq u e 

Whilst she holds lonely state at home. 

KING. 

What thence ? 

ARIAS. 

Say that the dance should heat your grace too much ; 

Some sudden mist, or heady dizziness, 

From the quick action of the blood sent up 

To the clear brain, infecting it with heaviness, 

Might furnish you with reasons to withdraw. 

Leave me director of the royal revel, 

And while I keep all hearts afloat with mirth, — 

Soft music, banqueting, and all delights — 

You know the lady's house ? 



54 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act ii. 

KING. 

Oh ! on my soul 
It shall be thus — but lest on my departure 
The feast grow tame, and others should be gone,' — 
For where the leader moves, the blind herd follow — 

ARIAS. 

Leave that to me ; your highness shall be troubled 
With no companion through the streets to-night : 
If but one sleepy guest do stir towards home 
Till you are to your palace walls returned, 
Ne'er trust me for a witless blunderer. 

KING. 

If this attempt do reach the wish'd-for end, 
Be sure thou shalt know something of my joy. 
In tokens that shall best become thy zeal, 
And the surpassing prize I venture for. 

[Exeunt. 



SCENE III AN APARTMENT IN DON PEDRO'S 

HOUSE— A WINDOW ON ONE SIDE, ON THE 
OTHER AN ORATORY. 

Estrella and Ursula discovered. 

URSULA. 

All these — and these ! Marry, we must have galleys 
by water, and wains by land, to bear thy apparel to thy 
new home, maiden ! 

ESTRELLA. 

Leave looking o'er them, nurse, and sit down here. 
Thou shalt do that, when I am gone to bed. 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 55 

Sit here, in thine old place, good Ursula ; 

Reach me the footstool : now begin and tell me 

One of those stories old, of moorish maids 

And christian knights, and wizard lore full strange, 

As thou wert wont — now, whilst thou braid'st my hair. 

URSULA. 

What, art thou thinking of thy sleep already ? 

ESTRELLA. 

I'm weary of to-day ; I'll get to bed, 

It will be morrow sooner when I sleep. 

Come, gossip, dear ; be sure a wondrous story ; 

All golden halls, and pearl-strewn tapestry, 

And Indian spicy wainscoting, and curtains 

O' the crimson damask, glittering o'er with gems, 

To give me shining dreams — come, now begin. 

URSULA. 

Til tell thee the tale of the christian knight who slew 
the villain sorcerer of Ebolis. 

ESTRELLA. 

No, that's all fighting ; I'll have none of it, — 
Gashes, and corslets hack'd, and helmets dented. 

URSULA. 

I'll tell thee the story of Moraim, the Moorish maid, 
whose love was a fair christian page, born in Castille. 

ESTRELLA. 

No, no ; not that one. 

URSULA. 

Why not that one, honey ? 

ESTRELLA. 

I do remember it, 'tis full of love, 
Voluptuous like the noon-day breath of roses, 



56 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act ii. 

It is too passionate — I will not hear it ; 
Some other. 

URSULA. 

By my troth ! I had need coin them ; 
Lay thy head thus that I may reach thy hair, 
Dear chick ; I shall not braid it e'er again for thee. 
Besbrew me ! that I weep ; God keep thee, dove ! 
And make thee one of his. 

ESTRELLA. 

Amen, sweet Nurse ! 

URSULA. 

Now listen. There dwelt a knight once, near the 
Moorish land, in a high castle, strong and stout for 
the nonce, as he had need, and he was brave and young, 
and moreover fair to look on ; and this knight had a 
beautiful sister whom he loved for all the world — 

ESTRELLA. 

As Pedro loves me. 

URSULA. 

Yea, even so, sweet ; well, in all Spain was none so 
fair as this maiden, whose name was called May Flower, 
for she was as sweet as spring flowers when they blow. 
What, art thou listening ? 

ESTRELLA. 

Ay, go on, go on ; sweet as a May-bud — - 
You see I heard. 

URSULA. 

Thy dark lash droops to thy velvet cheek ; thou'rt 
half asleep. 

ESTRELLA. 

Carlos ! dear Carlos ! 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE 57 

URSULA. 

She sleeps, by my good faith ! Hark ! mistress ! lady ! 
chick ! lie not aslant thus, thou 'It get aches, ere 
age ; get up, and sleep in thy bed, 'twere best, sweet. 

ESTRELLA. 

The dreaming poppies drop upon my lids ; 
Oh me ! I'm heavy — I'll to bed ; Good nurse, 
Help me to doff my vest ; take thou good care 
Of all these gay attires, they be rich gifts 
From my good kinsfolk. 

URSULA. 

Marriage gifts, nay, troth, there was no need to blush : 
shall I put these away, and these, and this? {taking 
up a rosary.) Thou wilt not need it, for to-night 
thou art too full of love and sleep, to pray. My 
life, but every bead thou whisperest his name, 'stead of 
an ave. 

ESTRELLA. 

Believe it not ; the love I bear my love 
Takes nought from that devout and deep affection 
I owe to Heaven ; oh ! I pray better and more ear- 
nestly 
Than e'er before, for now I pray for him : 
My lord, my husband ! — Give me the rosary. 

(She goes into the Oratory, and kneels, while 
the nurse busies herself about the room,) 
estrella. (Returning.) 
Good night, sweet nurse ! 

URSULA. 

What, shall I not sit by thee, till thou'rt asleep ? 



58 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act ii. 

ESTRELLA 

No, I would be alone ; my thoughts are all 
Like mingled colours, bright but indistinct. 

URSULA. 

Well, get thee to bed then ; if I leave thee, be sure 
thou open not the casement to smell the night-buds of 
the jessamine and orange flower, nor watch the moon 
until she meet the morning ; be sure thou get to bed. 

ESTRELLA. 

I will, I will ; good night ! 

URSULA. 

Heaven keep thee, bird ! [Exit. 

ESTRELLA. 

Tis a strange life ; and in my hand I hold 

Its strangest riddle: a throbbing, restless joy 

Beats in my heart and flutters there like fear ; 

My little day of life comes back o'er me ; 

My past existence, Heaven has made it sweet, 

Unmixed with any taint of bitterness, 

And the bright future, like a sunny land 

Descried afar, stretches like paradise 

In rosy bowers and golden fields before me. 

Farewell, my home ! farewell, my pleasant chamber, 

Where time and I have still been gay companions ; 

Farewell, my virgin couch, which I shall press 

No more with slumbers light, and smiling dreams, 

That were not brighter than reality. 

Night spreads her raven wings, and nears the earth ; 

My blood's on fire ! O for a breath of air 

From the cool gardens underneath the balcony ! 

Once more I'll listen to the rustling boughs 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 59 

Beneath whose leafy screens I've 'scaped the sun 
Of eighteen summers ; and, for the last time, 
Mark how the moon-beams pierce the crystal folds 
Of yonder fount. (Opens window.) 

Sleep hangs upon them all ; 
The trees do rock, the waters flow in sleep, 
The sleepy stars wink in their sapphire beds, 
The air breathes gently, heaving in its sleep, 
And the round world spins sleepily on 's axis, 
I'll to my couch ; mine eyes reflect no more 
This earth's fair picture : 'tis night, 'twill soon be 

morrow. 
Now then to dream of him, till he returns. 
Fare thee well, sweetheart ! Good night, Carlos, — 

husband ! 

(She lies down and sleeps. Enter the King 
from balcony.) 

KING. 

Oh ! prosperous fate ! Lo ! to the very harbour — 
So true a pilot is true love, I've steered. 
She sleeps ! Oh, beauty ! richer far than all 
The hidden wealth of earth's wide treasuries ! 
How round her delicate limbs the pillows swell, 
Upbearing her with amorous gentle pressure ; 
How soft and even comes her balmy breath, 
And on the measured heaving of her breast, 
Peace and all virtuous thoughts lie slumbering. 
Why do I pause ? yet I am loth to break 
This holiest slumber ? Love ! oh, love, what lips ! 
No blossom of so rare a hue did e'er 



60 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act ii. 

Drink spring's fresh showers ; no fruitsosweet andmelting 
Did ever ripen in the summer's sun. 
Mine eyes grow dim ! 
Wake, thou fair creature ! 

(He lays his hand upon her arm, she starts and 
screams. Enter Pedro, by Balcony. 

PEDRO. 

Hell ! 
And all its devils ! loosen thy lewd grasp ! 
Robber and slave ! stand from beside that couch, 
Or, by my soul ! Ill unrip thine from thy body ! 

{The King, who has put on a mask, draws 
his sword.) 
I do not fear the cold shine of thy steel, 
Thou coward thief ! 

(They struggle-— -Pedro secures the sword,) 
Now, what shall hinder me 
From making ribbons of those silken swathings, 
And gashing that fair flesh with ugly wounds 
Shall mar your courting, lord ? 

KING. 

You dare not do 't. 

PEDRO. 

Hence by the way thou cam'st, and tempt me not 
Another minute, lest I strike thee down, 
And trample thee, defenceless as thou art : 
Hence, hence, I say ! 

(He strikes him with the fiat of his sword, and 

drives him towards the balcony, from which 

he leaps.) 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 61 

King ! King Alphonso, dog ! I knew thee 

And did not send Heaven's purifying breath 

Thro' thy stale heart, nor let some of the lust, 

That clogs thy blood, out of thy swollen veins ! 

Arm'd, too, — 'twas fit, and in so good a cause ! 

It is but they who make the laws dare break them 

So ga^antly : laws cannot stretch so high. 

She faints ! Fear has usurped sleep's gentle empire, 

And mimics death more closely. Oh ! my lily ! 

Accursed chance, that ever to our walls 

Did bring this tainted stream ; this King, this court, 

These villain lords ! this base nobility, 

Who hither come, like winter blasts in June, 

To sack our homes, make booty of our honours, 

And cry foul havoc on our happiness. 

Within there ! Ho ! within there ! 

Enter Ursula and Servants.) 

Mistress watchful ! 
Where wert thou prating all this time, good gossip ? 

URSULA. 

Kind saints ! what hath befallen ? 

PEDRO. 

Bear your lady in, gently, to mine own chamber, 
And do thou watch by her till I return. 
So, softly. 

(Exeunt Ursula and servants, carrying off 

EsTRELLA.) 

Now, what were it best to do ? 
Ill see if Carlos have departed yet ; 
If he is not, he shall wed her to-night 



62 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act 11. 

Before 't be midnight, and so take her home, 

Or ere the day break, unto Valentar. 

I'll seek him straight. A King, a house-breaker ! 

He's left me a good weapon — and good need 

I'm like to find for it, no doubt, hereafter. 

Ho ! Giacomo ! 

{Enter Servant.) 

Bar up that window fast ; 

Make sure the doors after I am gone out, 

And until I return, let no one enter. 

[Exeunt. 



END OF ACT II. 



act in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. , 63 



ACT III. 

SCENE I.— THE KING'S ANTICHAMBER. COUR- 
TIERS DISCOVERED, SOME PLAYING AT 
CHESS, OTHERS AT DICE. 



Enter from inner chamber a Gentleman. 

FIRST LORD. 

How now, sir, is his highness gone to bed ? 

GENTLEMAN. 

Not yet, sir. 

SECOND LORD. 

'Tis late — what time may it be ? 

THIRD LORD. 

An hour to day — just midnight. 

GENTLEMAN. 

I never saw his highness so disturbed ; he measures 
his chamber with such an angry diligence, as the Moors 
had sent to bid him good rest ; and every now and then, 
starts me his dagger out of its sheath — and then sits 
down and sighs with exceeding heaviness. 

FIRST LORD. 

When he left the banquet complaining that the 
action of the dance had over-wearied him, he would 
have none to attend him but the pages, and those, it 
seems, he presently dismissed. 

GENTLEMAN. 

The same humour is on him still; for he bids you all 



64 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act hi. 

get to your beds, and will see none but Don Carlos, 
whom we have sent for, now some two hours gone; 
but wbo, I fear, is hindered by some accident: he never 
did use to let a moment grow 'twixt the King's will and 
his obedience. 

SECOND LORD. 

No less an accident, than that he is not in Seville. 

THIRD LORD. 

I know he was to leave it at night-fall for Valentar. 

{Enter Don Arias. They all rise ; he crosses 
towards the King's apartment.) 

ARIAS. 

Good night, gentlemen. 

GENTLEMAN. 

Your pardon, noble sir, but 'tis his grace's pleasure, 
that none enter the royal chamber. 

ARIAS. 

Sir! 

GENTLEMAN. 

I trust your lordship knows I do but tread within 
the very boundary of duty in this — I may not suffer 
any to enter. 

ARIAS. 

Any ! — do you know me ? what fashion wear I of the 
sudden, that this door, which, like mine own, hath still 
stood open to me, is latched at a servant's pleasure ? 

GENTLEMAN. 

My lord, the King is most troubled and unquiet — 
angry and stern like waves chafed by the north. — Sir, I 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. G5 

dare not open the door — for, except Don Carlos, his 
highness will see no one. 

ARIAS. 

Don Carlos ! 

GENTLEMAN. 

We have sent for him. 

ARIAS. 

Don Carlos ! — so — so — so — so ran the horse that way 
this morning ; faith, he's galloped on in the time, to be 
come so far as this. None but him ! Pegasus, none 
other ! And here he flies a proper colt ! but 111 curry 
him yet. 

Enter Don Carlos with two Gentlemen, 

CARLOS. 

Save you, sir ! 

ARIAS. 

And you, sir ! 

CARLOS. 

The King, I hear, is much distempered. 

ARIAS. 

And I hear hath sent for you to cure him. 

GENTLEMAN. 

Sir, I shall tell his highness of your arrival. 

CARLOS. 

Pray do ; and withal that this delay, wherein my will 
was warped to the event, was caused by my departure 
from Seville— for indeed I was already some miles on 
my road, when the messenger overtook me. 

j Emit Gentlemen. 



G6 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act hi. 

arias (aside.) 
I would you had been further ! — (Aloud.) The 
King refuses to see any but yourself — you will become 
a court planet, Don Carlos. 

CARLOS. 

No, sir ; I do not love to shine with borrowed light. 

ARIAS. 

I cry your mercy ! — nothing but the sun will serve 
your turn, I see. 

CARLOS. 

I look not to such heights. 

ARIAS. 

You're wise, sir ; those who do, sometimes lose their 
footing, and falling, break their skulls. 

CARLOS. 

Although your words wear a plain even gloss, your 
looks throw a strange colour on them, sir ; — I under- 
stand you not. 

ARIAS. 

'Tis pity ! 

CARLOS. 

That I'm sure it is ; for when you speak, men use to 
profit. 

ARIAS. 

Sir! 

CARLOS. 

Don't vex your sword by plucking at it thus — I'm 
not for fighting, sir — not now nor here — but if the 
King's high pleasure being done, these veins still hold 
life's wine, I'll pledge it you against your own, for my 
dead father's sake. 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 67 



Enter Gentleman. 

GENTLEMAN. 

My lord, will it please you follow ? His Majesty ex- 
pressed unmeasured content at your arrival. 

CARLOS. 

My life is his poor property. 

(Eweunt Gentleman and Carlos.) 
arias. 
The weights unequal, and the too light scale 
Wherein I sit, is chuck'd to the beam by his. 
We must put order to this speedily, 
Or we shall have these country-cousin courtiers 
Fray our gold mantles with their fustian doublets. 
Good night, sirs ! if his highness call for me, v. 
I'm at the Count Lomaria's for some hours 
More of the night. " My life is his poor property," — 
A courtlike phrase, and smacks for all the world 
Of the antichamber — plague on this honest roguery 
That plays the fool the better to be knave ! 
But swearing's breath, and breath but cast away 
That wafts us not more near our purposes. 
Don Carlos ! — we shall measure wits together. 

[Exit 



F 2 



68 STAR OF SEVILLE. ' [act hi. 



SCENE II.— THE KING'S CHAMBER. 
The King discovered, 

KING. 

The evil that we do, being conceiv'd, 

Is sin, e'en in the womb of thought ; before 

The midwife will have given birth to it, 

And brought it forth, a deed. Then I have sinn'd, 

In that IVe wished his death : — nor is that sin 

Made less or greater by the accomplishment 

That frees my labouring thought — and having sinn'd, 

Why 'tis as easy to go on, as turn ; 

Much easier than stand still, being come so far ; 

Besides, do I not bear th' absolving power 

That cancels evil ? Can the King do wrong ? 

And shall he not do right that doth avenge 

The sacred cause of majesty insulted ? 

Were I his fellow — such as he— a blow 

Were worth a blow, and so he might be answer'd ; 

But being as the sun, above his head, 

By so much more is treason black in him 

As I'm his greater — by that height debarr'd 

The level ground men claim in equal combat. 

[Enter Gentleman ushering in Don Carlos. 
Oh you are welcome — welcome ; — listen to me : 
With the profoundest heed of sense and spirit, 
And answer me with such a soul of love, 
Of truth and honour, as your father, Carlos, 
Bore mine. 



scene ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 69 

- 

CARLOS. 

Let not the measure of my words 
Outpass the showing of my life — believe me, sir 
I speak as though the sun shone through my heart — 
I have not inherited my father's name 
Or land with a more full and true profession, 
Than his most dear devotion to your majesty. 

KING. 

Sit down beside me here, and give me heed. 

In all this court which, since my brows have borne 

My father's crown, so wooingly smiles round me — 

Among these scores of willing nimble slaves 

I've not one friend, not one I e'er have lov'd 

As some six years agone I lov'd thee, Carlos ; 

And though my prosperous hours may seem to hive 

slipp'd 
From out their record, thy right loyal love 
My need remembers it. 

CARLOS. 

Oh blessed chance ! 
Whate'er it be that once more shows to me, 
Stripp'd of his royal panoply, my friend ! 
What needs my friend, and what commands my King ? 

KING. 

Rememberest thou how, in our unripe years, 
Our hours were interwoven with the sweetness 
Of an affection most like kindred love ? 

CARLOS. 

Well, oh my liege, how well — and every patch 
Of sunny boyhood that my mind reflects 
Still holds your form. 



70 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act in. 

KING. 

This is as I would have it. — 

Rememberest thou our beardless exploits, when 

We first in blood baptized our virgin swords ? 

Dost thou remember Talavera fight — 

The scar yet seams my breast — that was the trench 

Betwixt thee and the death that did besiege thee ? 

CARLOS. 

Give me to do my answer. I am poor 
In the airy coin of words — oh let my deeds 
Speak for me — this strange catechism, sir, 
Seems like mistrust. Let me not say, but show 
How my heart bears engraven on its core 
That wound. 

KING. 

All that a loving friend doth owe 
Unto his friend thou art still perfect in. 
Now answer me, in what kind of respect 
Dost thou as a true subject hold thy King ? 

CARLOS. 

Second alone to God, whose great ambassador 
Here upon earth he stands — his law of povv'r 
Less holy only than the laws of Lleaven — 
His person sacred above aught of earth. 

KING. 

And what does he deserve who lays his hand 
On his anointed King in daring strife ? 
carlos (starting up.) 
Death ! — nay three sev'rai deaths. First that he struck 
The abstract of all mortal majesty ; 
Next, that against the father of his country, 
Its rever'd head, he rais'd his lawless hand- 



scene ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 71 

The parricidal doom : last, that with daring 
Most impious and unnatural, he struck 
The type of Heaven's eternal Sovereign — 
The death and hell of sacrilege accurst. 

KING. 

Within the walls of Seville lives a man 
Who hath incurr'd all these against his King — 
'Gainst me, the Lord and Sovereign of Castille, 
He rais'd his arm. 

CARLOS. 

Oh ! wither'd be its marrow, 
And shrunk its muscles — may its veins run bloodless 
Under the curse of God and man ! 

KING. 

Waste not 
Thy zeal in harmless words — hast thou no sword? 

CARLOS. 

For this most honour'd choice my heart bows down 
In thanks — yea, I do bear a knightly sword, 
And here, by this life-giving symbol, swear, 
Which on death's handle christian warriors worship, 
To drive forth from my breast all other thoughts 
Save that alone of this great evil done 
And its great punishment yet left undone. 

KING. 

Within this paper have I writ the name 

Of him the traitor. — When thou art gone forth 

From out the palace, stay not to pray or sleep, 

But now, or ere the night's an hour older, 

Do this appointed work : be sure the task 

Shall not lack payment — nor shall blame or danger 

Grow to thy steps if thou achiev'st his death. 



72 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act hi. 

CARLOS. 

If I achieve his death ! all blessed saints 

Fight with me, and against the parricide : 

And as the cause is holy, shadowy fear 

Comes not anigh my soul. Good night, my liege — 

The heavens protect your grace. 

KING. 

I shall sleep well, 
Knowing mine honour's champion doth not slumber, 
Good night, my Carlos. — Nay, stoop not, good friend, 
But thus, as when we last did say farewell 
Receive thy friend's embrace and sovereign's greeting. 
Lights, ho within ! Farewell ! 

CARLOS. 

God keep your majesty. 

[Exeunt severally. 



SCENE III.— A STREET IN SEVILLE, OPPOSITE 
THE ANCHOR INN. 



Enter Hyacinth, Curio, Valentine, and others* 

laughing. 

hyacinth. 

'Tis true, as I'm a gentleman, 1 use no witchcraft ; 

but I think the women be all mad, they do so plague 

me. 



Is not this rare sport 



VALENTINE, 
•f V 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 73 

CURIO. 

And to see such a monster for nothing, — Vasco 
should show him at three deniers a-head. 

HYACINTH. 

I do protest unto you there be now three honour- 
able virgins, two honest wives, and five chaste widows, 
all at this very hour sick in love with me. 

VALENTINE. 

O this flogs Europe ! 

CURIO. 

The wine doth mount in him — we shall have more 
anon. 

HYACINTH. 

What say ye there? — ye be doubting me. I tell 
you the King's sister, when first I was presented in 
the court, cried out, " Cog's wounds ! but he is the 
sweetest gentleman of his inches the mirror of mine 
eyes did e'er reflect." She would have knighted me 
then and there, I know, save that some chance pre- 
vented it, — you understand me, — 'twas thought fear 
might be entertained in the King's mind, — you un- 
derstand me, — nephews have been heirs. 

CURIO. 

O, God save your lordship and my waistband ! 

VALENTINE. 

If you be not provided with a squire, might one — 

HYACINTH. 

Gentlemen, ye shall draw lots for place; neither 
will I let my favour lean to either, lest fortune, being 
a woman as she is, do choose him for my love's-sake. 
Where is my cousin, the orange-merchant's son ? 



74 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act hi. 

CURIO. 

Vasco will be here anon : but, gentlemen, were we 
not best go in ? the night grows foul. 

HYACINTH. 

The moon plays peep-bo up among the clouds ; we 
shall have rain— let us go in. I'll tell you more of 
these same chances there. 

VALENTINE. 

Supper is ordered, I know, and wine, and all things 
most conducible to merriment. 

HYACINTH. 

A drop of rain, I do aver ; the clouds be envious 
of my sapphire cloak. (Bowing with ceremony at the 
door of the house.) Sir, O sir ! O gentlemen ! let me 
not show you my back, worthy gentlemen — I'll follow. 

VALENTINE. 

We know manners, sir, though no courtiers. 

curio. 
O how my ribs will ache before to-morrow. 

[Exewit into the Anchor Inn. 



Enter Don Carlos, and a Page bearing a torch. 

CARLOS. 

How like to shuttlecocks toss'd on fate's racket 
Seem we and all our aims ! I did not think 
To have such work upon my hands to-night, 
Nor in my soul did anything save love 
Dwell, when at sunset I rode o'er the bridge 
Towards Valentar. How goes the night, boy P 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 75 

PAGE. 

Sir, 
I think the night be changing into morning, 
And yonder' s the cathedral bell— 'tis one. 

CARLOS. 

Thou grey and shadowy eye 
Of morn, cloud-lidded, open not thyself 
Upon the earth ere I have done my task. 
The night is spent ; I will go seek out Pedro ; 
'Twere best tell him of this cross- woven chance, 
Which may delay me from th' appointed hour 
When I should meet my bride. 

PAGE. 

Your pardon, sir 5 , 
I see you have your sword ; did you not hear 
That there has been a proclamation sent 
From the King, forbidding any to walk arm'd. 

CARLOS. 

I know it, boy, but I do hold my sword 

By licence of the King's high pleasure. Soft — 

Before I seek out Pedro, let me first 

Into this warrant pry, that to swift death 

Decrees one who, although till now unknown, 

I count for evermore my deadliest foe. 

Thy torch — the stars have crept into the clouds, 

And the pale daylight, like a sick man waking, 

Can scarce put by the night's thick curtains — ha ! 

What's here ! — come nearer, there's some devil dances 

Before mine eyes — nearer, I cannot see ; 

O God, strike not my sense with this black curse — 

I'm blind—read there — aloud—what name — what name ? 



76 STAR OF SEVILLE, [act hi. 

PAGE. 

Don Pedro de Roella. 

CARLOS. 

May thy tongue 
Be wither'd like my heart ! 

PAGE. 

Sir, sir — my lord ! 
You're pale, and cannot stand — help, ho, within ! 

Enter Vasco and Gentlemen. 

VASCO. 

What is the matter ? 

Don Carlos, you are fainting : sir, lean on me. 

Follow me, gentlemen — a dizziness — 

'Tis nothing — it will pass ; — what ho, within — 

We shall find help enough here in the house. 

[Exeunt into the Anchor Inn, supporting 
Carlos. 



SCENE IV.— A ROOM IN THE ANCHOR INN. 



Hyacinth, Curio, Valentine, and others, at Supper 
Various tables surrounded with Revellers. 
omnes. 
Ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! 

HYACINTH. 

Excellent ! excellent ! though I made the jest my- 
self ! Now we will have a song — ahem ! 



scene iv.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 77 

(Sings. ) 
Maidens who love 
Like the moping dove 

Are all too sad for me, 
But the light that lies 
In merry eyes, 

A laughing love give me I 

Enter Vasco and others, leading Carlos, 
curio. 
Ha ! here is company, — Vasco. 

VALENTINE. 

What hath kept thee? 

HYACINTH. 

Is the man dead or drunk ? 

VASCO. 

Neither, neither; here, give me a cup of wine. 

carlos — (drinks.) 
Another — another — ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! — another, to 
drown the fire in my brain ! 

CURIO. 

Sit down, sir ; you seem better. 

CARLOS. 

Better! what need of better ? I am well — what ails 
me, think you ? — tush, tush, men are not maids to 
faint away for the heart-ache. More wine — more — 
give me more wine, — a health — a health to the devil, 
the king of kings ! 

HYACINTH. 

Why that's a merry blade : I like a fellow that takes 
his liquor kindly. 



78 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act hi. 

VASCO. 

All is not right with him ; this is a strange passion. 

CARLOS. 

Well, sir, what d'ye see in my eyes ? you peruse me 
as though for all the world you meant to learn me. 

VASCO. 

Indeed, my lord, not I ! Come, gentlemen, Don 
Carlos seems well disposed to honour us awhile. 

CARLOS. 

Ay, till the yellow sun-light flames in the sky ; for 
what was the night made, think ye, but to drink and to 
forget the cursed day ? — A health. Give me some 
wine ! 

PAGE. 

Sir, your glass is full. 

carlos — (drinks.) 

Now give me some ! — 'tis empty — ha ! thou ill scho- 
lar — thou canst spell bravely. Heed me not, gentle- 
men. I'll sit here apart at this table, — think not of me, 
good gentlemen. Get thee home, imp ;- — dost hear me ? 
go home ! 

PAGE. 

I will, my lord. [Exit Page. 

VALENTINE. 

This is a strange, humorous fancy, to come here 
among us and spoil sport, with his gaunt visage. 
curio. 

Mayhap he hath quarrelFd with his mistress — they're 
to be married to-morrow. 

HYACINTH. 

To-day, for it is day — a baby-day of two hours old. 



scene iv.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 79 

Come, we grow sapless in our mirth, — a song, — come, 
we will be melodious. Senor Valentine, you've a sweet 
pipe, I've heard. 

CURIO. 

For all the world like a nightingale in the quinsey. 



Drink, for good or ill betide, 
The goblet wears its joyous hue ; 
In the goblet drown your woes — 
With the goblet meet your foes, 
There is no friend so staunch beside. 

CHORUS. 

There is no mistress half so true — 
Drink to me — I drink to you ! 

Drink, for good or ill betide, 
The goblet wears its joyous hue ; 
With the goblet laugh at tears — 
With the goblet jest at fears — 
With wine the world may be defied. 

CHORUS. 

Seize the hours, such hours are few — 
Drink to me — I drink to you ! 

HYACINTH. 

" There is no mistress half so true ;" that were wis- 
dom, though an heathen should say it. 

VASCO. 

You have travelled, Cousin Hyacinth ? 



80 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act hi. 

HYACINTH. 

I have, Cousin Vasco. 

CURIO. 

Whither, may't please you, sir? 

HYACINTH. 

O, why I have gone hopping about the world, pick- 
ing up crumbs of wisdom here and there ; but I have 
more studied men than things, and women more than 
either men or things. 

VALENTINE. 

And the epitome of your observation is — 

HYACINTH. 

That your Italian loves you for loveVsake, your 
Frenchwoman for your tongue's-sake, your German for 
your great-grandfather's sake, and your Englishwoman 
for your purse's-sake. 

VASCO. 

And our Spanish girls ? 

HYACINTH. 

O, for GodVsake, and to be charitable. 

VALENTINE. 

The English — they live with their heads under 
water, do they not ? 

HYACINTH. 

Yea, for the most part under aqua-vitae. Gentlemen, 
drink, we will call for more wine. 

VASCO. 

The room is very hot. 

HYACINTH. 

Ay, me— 



scene iv.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 81 

CURIO. 

The heat would not so much matter an' it would 
stand still. I have heard the world did turn round, but 
never marked it till now. 

HYACINTH. 

Ay, me ! 

VALENTINE. 

Humph ! 'tis not the room, nor the world either — 
hiccup ! — doth turn — 'tis thou goest flisking hi — hic- 
cup — hither and thither — how like thcu art — hiccup — 
to a fly ! 

HYACINTH. 

Ay, me ! — my heart grows soft. — O, my dear friends ! 
my most loving friends ! my kind cousin — and ye, 
sweet gentlemen — 'tis an evil thing and a sore to be 
cleft in the heart. 

VASCO. 

What now ! are you so wounded ? 

HYACINTH. 

There is a lady weeping in Segovia, I do think, at 
this hour — lo mine eyes take the hint of her sorrow. 
— O my dear friend ! my gentle kinsman, to that fair 
lady am I contracted. 

(Chorus of gentlemen at another' table.) 

" And she was mine and thine, 
That lady so frail and fine." 

HYACINTH. 

'Tis false — ye lie in your throats ! She is mine own 
betrothed bride — and purer than — 



82 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act hi. 

VALENTINE. 

Ditch-water — hiccup — 

HYACINTH. 

Now then, a health ! — a health to the fair bride ! 

CARLOS. 

(Starting up.) Ay, ay, to the bride, all swathed in 
mourning weeds — to the bloody-handed bridegroom ! — a 
health — a health to the fairest maid in Seville — in Spain 
— in all the world — Estrella, the star; — drink on your 
knees as I drink, sirs, to the fair Star of Seville. ( They 
all drink.) Good night, kind gentlemen — a merry 
waking to you all. (He rushes out.) 

HYACINTH. 

That's a pleasant youth, my Vasco ! — O my Pollux, 
I will be thy Castor. 

VASCO. 

Heaven send you be not my death ! Pray clasp not 
my throat so close. 

HYACINTH. 

I am lamentable in my soul, my brother. 

(Curio awe? Valentine sing and dance together.) 

" Ho, ho, with a hip, ho, ho — 

Down with the heel, and up with the toe." 

HYACINTH. 

Yea, I will dance and defy the devil. 

VASCO. 

Come, come — leave your teetotum reel — ho, hostess ! 
— where be our men — what, hostess, ho ! (Enter the 



scene iv.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 83 

hostess.) Send hither our men — we must towards home 
— 'tis daylight. 

HYACINTH. 

Ho, ho, with a 

VASCO. 

Come, come, gentlemen — 'tis time we leave the house 
— 'tis early morning. 

VALENTINE. 

Curio, come then with me — we'll to the house you 
wot of. 

cumo. 
We will — we will. Thou hast ta'en my hat. 

VALENTINE. 

Ta'en in thy teeth — I'm no rubbish vender. 

CURIO. 

I say thou hast stolen my hat — it had a feather 
once. 

VASCO. 

'Tis dangling here behind you. 

CURIO. 

Valentine, you're an honest, man — I forgive thee ! 

HYACINTH. 

Kinsman, dear — I will take thine arm. Come, shall 
we dance a fandango ? 

VASCO. 

The fiend fly away with you ! — leave dancing, and 
come home. 

Enter Sancho, and other Men-servants. 

VASCO. 

Sancho, take thy master. 

g 2 



84 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act hi. 

HYACINTH. 

O Vasco, my soul is exceeding heavy. I could 
weep — yea, I do weep ; lo i spite of these breeches, 
mine eyes gush over for the fair Amadalinda. Ho, ho, 
with a hip ho, ho — 

VASCO. 

Come, come. 

HYACINTH. 

Ho, ho — out, alas ; — hip, ay me — good night, gen- 
tlemen. How you pull me, cousin !— let me embrace my 
friends. Good night, sweet gentlemen. 

(He embraces them all over and over again.) 

VASCO. 

A plague on your slobbering ! 

HYACINTH. 

Vamos ! ho — ho — hip — ho — ho — 

(Exeunt Vasco and Sancho, leading Hya- 
cinth, followed by Curio and Valentine 
arm-in-arm ; manent chorus of gentlemen, 
who sing the following 

Chorus. 
What, though the morn 
Looks keen and cold, 
Like a bitter scold, 
Her spite we scorn, 
With a hey down, down, my bully boys bold !" 



scene v.] STAR OF SEVILLE 85 



SCENE V. — A STREET IN SEVILLE AT DAY- 
BREAK. 

Enter Don Pedro. 

PEDRO. 

'Tis passing strange — not at his house — nor gone 
To Valentar — lo, now ! whom have we here ? 
'Tis Carlos' page— what, ho ! thou imp of the night, 
Whither art scudding, mischief? 

PAGE. 

Home, my lord. 

PEDRO. 

Where is thy master ? 

PASE. 

At the Anchor Inn, sir — 
In very merry excellent good company. 
Your pardon, sir, he charged me to go home 
And I do fear to be abroad so early. 
'Tis scarcely light. 

PEDRO. 

Run, lest thou meet thy shadow. 

[Exit Page. 
In merry company, and at the Anchor ! 
Why, this is stranger than the rest. Who's yonder ? 
Sure some fantastical, crack-witted lunatic 
With a drawn sword too ! 'Tis bad company 
To meet abroad ; but thanks to the King I'm armed. 
The morning frowns upon the earth. Hark f — thunder ; 



$6 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act in. 

Sure 'tis an evil day that speaks so sternly 

From its cradle. — Carlos ! by my good eyes — 'tis he. 

Enter Don Carlos very wildly, and in a disordered 
dress, with his sword drawn. 

PEDRO. 

Thou art the very man I'm seeking, Carlos. 

CARLOS. 

I seek not thee — get hence, and let me pass. 

PEDRO. 

Carlos, what ails thee ? 

CARLOS. 

Madness ails me, 
And murder, and all devilish hideous thoughts 
Pursue me, man. In the name of God— begone. 

PEDRO. 

I come to thee from thy bride, my sister, Carlos — 
Ye were to wed at noon. 

CARLOS. 

We were — we were — 
But that's among the things that, like abortions, 
Rot in the womb of time — we shall not wed. 

PEDRO. 

Sir ! — but my soul stoops not to answer you — 
You're drunk. 

CARLOS. 

You lie ! 

PEDRO. 

Carlos ! — pray come with me. 
I would noi in an evil hour do that 



scene v.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 87 

My after life should mourn for — come with me. 
Thou art not fit to walk alone. 

CARLOS. 

You lie ! 
I am not drunk, but I am fix'd and sworn, 
As there is light in heaven, and fire in hell, 
To stab thee to the heart. Defend thyself. 

PEDRO. 

I will not — thou art mad. 

CARLOS. 

Hark to the thunderer — 
The evil spirit laughs out of the skies 
To see a brave man turn faint-hearted — hark ! 
Defend thyself, for I have sworn an oath, 
And I will keep it — fare thee well, dear Pedro ; 
For, betwixt thee and me, the gulf that parts 
The blessed and the damn'd is yawning wide. 
To heaven with thee ! 

PEDRO. 

Nay, if you press me thus, 

iThey fight. 
I needs must parry. Carlos, hold ! thou'rt frantic — 
I cannot foil thee ! — ah — I'm struck in the life. 

[He falls. 

CARLOS. 

Struck, art thou ? yea, 'tis blood, blood, reeking blood. 
My feet are washed in it — it rises round me — 
I swim — I drown in thy warm living blood. 

PEDRO. 

Whate'er hath urg'd thee to this deed I guess not — 
Let not my sister know thy hand did strike me, 



88 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act hi. 

And do thou swear, for thou keep'st well an oath, 
To wed her. Do not leave her desolate — 
Do not abandon her, I do beseech thee ; 
But let thy love for her redeem my death. 
Forsake her not — forsake her not, dear Carlos. 
Oh, my Estrella — oh ! {He dies. 

(A violent storm of thunder and lightning.) 

CARLOS. 

Yea, thou grim thunderer, 
Hast thou a voice to curse, and none to warn ? 
Pedro ! ho, Pedro, hear'st thou not up yonder, 
How the loud voices of the night call to thee ? 
Arise, wake, wake, oh ! wake — ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! — 
He's dead ! — what's dead ? here be his limbs, 
The same that folded in the living soul — 
Here is the very likeness he did wear, 
And yet he's dead. Should there not come some 

change 
Over the dead ? — the subtle soul is gone, 
And here's the gory gate I open'd for it. 
Ay, roll, roll, roll, thou noisy watchman, roll — 
Call up the world to witness this foul slaughter — 
It is the voice that, when the earth first tasted 
Her children's blood, called from the clouds to Cain — 
Oh ! damned life, that art so soon set free, 
Come, let me give thee wings. 

Enter Arias, with servants bearing torches. 

ARIAS. 

Hold, madman, hold ! 
What butchery is here. Don Carlos ? 



scene v.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 89 

CARLOS. 

Ay, 

That is my name — men have not yet found out 

A curse to tack to't foul and dark enough. 

Bring lights around — see here, here is one murdered, 

Look where the slimy blood comes oozing out ; 

Just now it gushed out like an angry torrent, 

And bare the spirit on its crimson waves. 

I have done this, — ha ! ha ! ha ! — how ye stare 

Look at my clotted sword, look at my face, 

Bear I not stabber writ upon my forehead ? 

ARIAS. 

Ring the alarm bell ! call the city guard up ! 

(In the distance voices are heard, " Which way? 
Yonder in the cross street." Enter Vasco 
and Sancho, supporting Hyacinth, singing 
and dancing, drunkenly ; the alarm bell 
rings — thunder and lightning.) 

CARLOS. 

See where heav'ns torches glare with livid light, 

Flashing around the avenger's chariot wheels, 

That bound along the sky ! The world spins round — 

The solid earth sinks in with me— the thick 

And palpable air is full of fiery rings, 

That scorch mine eye-balls — O ! — 

(He falls upon the body.) 

HYACINTH. 

Let me go — let me go— I will see — oh ! 
Vasco, oh — oh ! — look here. 

vasco. 
Come hence — ye mock this terrible sight with your 
drunken gaping. Sir, can I help you ? 



90 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act hi. 

ARIAS, 

No, sir, I thank you ; for here comes the guard. 
Raise both these bodies — one of them is cold, 
In the other one life doth but play the truant — 
It will return. There is some dismal riddle 
Hid among these dark deeds, I cannot guess at ; 
The hand of day must wind this tangled skein. 
On to the Alcade's house. 

[Eweunt guard, bearing the bodies. 
The sheeted lightnings 
Stretch their blue wings, and whiz above the earth — 
'Tis a fit hour for such a bloody tragedy, 
And nature, with her children's stormy passions, 
Hold fearful sympathy. Follow me. — Good night. 
If you hereafter should be called on, sir, 
To witness this foul business — 
vasco. 

I shall be 
My duty's slave, my lord ; but I must hope 
To be spar'd such an office. Come, thou sleepy sack, 
Thou'rt heavy drunk now. Come, I cannot carry thee. 

[Exeunt omnes severally. 



SCENE VI. — A CHAMBER IN DON PEDRO'S 
HOUSE. ESTRELLA DISCOVERED SITTING 
BEFORE HER GLASS— THE NURSE AND 
ISABEL ASSISTING TO DRESS HER. 



ESTRELLA. 

Come, hast thou done, — am I not perfect yet ? 
'Tis well enough — 'tis well enough. I cannot 



cene vi.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 91 

Sit patiently and quiet any longer. Isabel, 

I know thou'rt longing to be hence — thy cousin, 

When does she wed ? 

ISABEL. 

I think her father said 
On Wednesday, madam. 

ESTRELLA. 

May her lot be happy, wench, 
As mine. Get thee a husband, Isabel — 
I fear thou'rt over-nice — hast thou no sweetheart ? 
Come, thou shalt tell no falsehoods — hold thy tougue. 
Here, thou shalt take thy pretty cousin these 
For thy marriage present to her. 

ISABEL. 

Thank you, madam. O my dear lady, may your feet 
still tread on the sunny, smooth and evenest path of life 
— may love be immortal as he is sweet to you ; and 
sorrow touch nothing that you have looked on. Good 
angels guard you as their sister, ever ! 

[Exit Isabel, 

ESTRELLA. 

O joy ! O joy ! O bright triumphant spirit 

That in my bosom dost a revel keep ! 

Life, life and love, may one heart hold ye both, 

And yet not faint with the surpassing bliss. 

O that I were a bird to spread my wings 

And soar, and soar, and pour my ecstasy 

In a tumultuous stream of gushing song. 

O that I had a universe to fill 

With my exceeding happiness. 



92 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act hi. 

NURSE. 

Keep it, keep it, girl, thy present stock 
Won't last thee till for ever. 

ESTRELLA. 

It is iii vain : like the exulting sun, 

My light pursues thy wisdom's conquered shadows, 

And chases them from off my land of hope. 

See, thou false prophet. — see where the bright morning 

Stands laughing on the threshold of the east — 

Where are the clouds thou saidst didst veil the dawn ? 

Look how the waters mirror back again 

The blushing curtains of Aurora's bed. 

fresh and fragrant earth, and glorious skies 
All strewn with rosy clouds — sweet dewy breath 
Of earliest buds unfolded in the night — 

And thou — thou winged spirit of melody, 
Thou lark that mountest singing to the sun, 
Fair children of the gold- eyed morn, I hail ye ! 
There dwells not one sad thought within my breast ; 
'Tis the broad noon-day there of light and love. 
The earth rebounds beneath my joyous feet : 

1 am a spirit — a spirit of hope and joy ! 

NURSE. 

I marvel that my lord has not returned. 

ESTRELLA. 

He has gone riding forth to meet my love, — 
My love, O brighter than the dawning day, 
And sweeter than the breath of evening violets, 
Glorious as victory, and fair as truth, 
Art thou, my love, my lord, my husband ! 



scene vi.] _ .STAR OF SEVILLE. 93 

NURSE. 

Hark! 

ESTRELLA. 

They cannot yet be here. O let me say it 
Again and yet again, to keep my heart 
From beating thus — as though he were at hand. 
They cannot yet be come — 

NURSE. 

Hark, hark ! I hear a noise at the gate, voices and 
steps of men — dost thou not hear ? 

ESTRELLA. 

'Tis they — 'tis he ! they come — Carlos — O God ! 

(She rushes to the door, and meets men 
bearing her brothers body — she shrieks 
and falls upon it.) 



END OF ACT III. 



94 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act iv. 



ACT IV. 

SCENE I. — THE OPEN SPACE BEFORE THE 
CATHEDRAL OF SEVILLE— PEOPLE COMING 
OUT OF THE CATHEDRAL, AS FROM MASS. 



Enter Curio 3 Valentine, and others. 

Valentine (singing.) 
" O Filii et Filiae !" that's a pleasant psalm, I like the 
tune on't. 

CURIO. 

Peace, listen to these news. Well, sir, how then ? 

FIRST GENTLEMAN. 

Don Carlos, sir, has confessed himself guilty of the 
deed ; but holds unbroken silence on all else, as motives, 
provocations. 

SECOND GENTLEMAN- 

The trial is to come on at two in the afternoon. 

VALENTINE. 

Why is the matter so hurried to a hearing ? 

FIRST GENTLEMAN. 

Reasons are given as plenty as chestnuts; none may 
be the right, though. 

SECOND GENTLEMAN. 

Being a nobleman of so much note and importance in 
Seville, the presence of the King's high counsellors 
is deemed a welcome addition in the trial to our city 
officers. 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 95 

SECOND GENTLEMAN. 

'Tis rumoured that the King, who loves Don Carlos 
exceedingly, hath already questioned with his nearest 
counsellors to have the trial private. 

VALENTINE. 

Don Pedro's friends will scarce cry content to that. 

SECOND GENTLEMAN 

no ; besides, the old Lord Gomez, whose son was 
killed in the streets of Saragossa much in the same 
fashion, presses the matter to a bloody issue, and seems 
to bear a sympathy to the deceased for the sake of his 
own murdered heir. 

CURIO. 

1 know of one will not be sorry for this chance. 

VALENTINE. 

Don Arias ? 

CURIO. 

The same : you recollect the landing. If Don Carlos 
pay not now for riding over the black Duke's bastard — 
I am no Spaniard ! 

VALENTINE. 

Poor Don Carlos ! he hath the prayers of many good 
hearts in Seville ! This is the history of last night's rid- 
dle. And by that same token where shall we meet to- 
night, gentlemen ? 

SECOND GENTLEMAN. 

O at the Anchor again— 'tis a good house, and nea r 
the council-room ; we can go thither after the trial, for if 
it be public I shall attend it. 

OMNES. 

And I ! and I ! and I ! 



96 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act iv. 

CURIO. 

O. if all go, there will be no supper bespoken. 

VALENTINE. 

Come thou, and do that now. 

CURIO. 

We will — farewell, till to-night, gentlemen. 

[Exeunt severally. 
Enter Hyacinth, and Sancho supporting him. 

HYACINTH. 

What the foul fiend makest thou hanging on mine 
arm, varlet ? 

SANCHO. 

Sir, I'm upholding you. 

HYACINTH. 

What ! I am not drunk. 

SANCHO. 

Are you quite sure of that, sir ? Let me see you stand. 
Lo ! you, sir, indeed you cannot stand, — you are not 
sober yet. 

HYACINTH. 

If thou do come one inch nearer to me than thou art, 
I will show thee which of us can't stand. Peace, get 
thee behind me, here be ladies coming out of church. 
Wilt thou get thee from me ? 

SANCHO. 

Sir, if you do make your bow in the prostrate form, 
it is no fault of mine. 

Enter from the Cathedral Florilla and Isabel. 

FLORILLA. 

Ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! didst mark the lady Julia? for all 
the world I would not wear such a mantle. 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 97 



ISABEL. 

It did to hide her face ; 'twas a sufficiently good 
mantle. 

FLORILLA. 

How, all prayer time, Donna Maria kept simpering at 
the Cavalier in the blue cloak. 

ISABEL. 

! a scandal ! it hindered me from holy thoughts. 

FLORILLA. 

So it put no ill ones into thy head 

ISABEL. 

Nay, then should I have had an empty skull ! 

FLORILLA. 

What's yonder, strutting up and down in the 

sun ? 

ISABEL. 

The rainbow incarnate. Mercy ! 'tis a man-pea. 
cock ! 

HYACINTH. 

Sancho, do the fair ladies look at me ? 

SANCHO. 

1 think they be gazing at one of us, sir. 

HYACINTH. 

They're sweet-favour' d ladies, Sancho. 

SANCHO. 

O ! sir, to my mind not half so goodly as Patience, the 
fat baker's daughter your honour liked before your ho- 
nour grew a gentleman. 

HYACINTH. 

Faugh, tripe ! 

H 



98 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act iv. 

SANCHO. 

There was a deal more of her than of these, sir; 
these two would not make a quarter of her. 

HYACINTH. 

Peace, dolt ! think'st thou women be like flesh of 
beeves and muttons priz'd by the pound. — I will accost 
them. 

\He bows, Florilla and Isabel laugh. 

FLORILLA. 

Do, I beseech thee ! 

ISABEL. 

O that I dared! 

FLORILLA. 

No harm shall come of it, but infinite sport. 

HYACINTH. 

Most beauteous fair ones — happy is the earth that 
carries you ! — the sky that lights you ! — the air you 
breathe ! and the life that dwells within you ! 

[Florilla and Isabel draw up and 
exeunt haughtily. 

SANCHO. 

Most disdainful puppets ! very ill mannerly and 
dull! 

HYACINTH. 

Sancho, these be ladies of great rank and quality — 
the first, the tall one, did throw me such a look ! Didst 
mark how her eye fell on my proportions ? 

SANCHO. 

Where, sir ? 

HYACINTH. 

1 shall hear of these again, be sure. Lo ! Hyacinth us, 
thou'rt the very fondling of Venus — said I not so ? 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 99 

Enter Isabel, laughing, 

ISABEL. 

Save you, fair sir ! my mistress, sir, the lady your 
lordship did salute so sweetly but now, has bid me 
come back in all haste to you, sir — she is a noble maid 
of high estate, greatly woo'd for her beauty and wealth ; 
but, as your lordship may have noted, she was much 
taken with your courtesy, and bade me invite your 
honour to her house. 

HYACINTH. 

my sweet Iris, tell thy Juno, Hyacinth shall be 
her^slave, now and for ever, here and hereafter, in this 
and in all things ! 

ISABEL. 

Our dwelling, sir, is the large house, close here by the 
cathedral. 

HYACINTH. 

1 shall not fail to find it. And the hour ? 

ISABEL. 

Come at vespers ; my lady will be alone then, and 
I will be waiting to admit your lordship. 

HYACINTH. 

May freckles mar my skin if I come not at the very 
hour. Rest you fair, sweet maiden ! [Exit Isabel.] 
Sancho, Sancho, am not I fortune's minion, thinkest 
thou, that such sweet and noble ladies do bear me af- 
fection ? 

sancho. 

Beshrew me, but I think they be neither more nor 
less than ■ 



h2 



100 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act iv. 

HYACINTH. 

Sancho ! 

SANCHO. 

Well, sir, you recollect what your mother said to you 
— it was the third article of her parting discourse, 
which had in it many and wise clauses — that you 
should never keep company with — 

HYACINTH. 

Sancho ! 

SANCHO. 

No, sir, not with me, who am an honest man, but 
with ill women, sir. 

HYACINTH. 

Be dumb, and follow me. Hark thee, varlet, if thou 
be'st not more modest in thy bearing, and more sparing 
of thy moralities henceforth, I will provide me with 
another man. 

SANCHO. 

And let that other man be provided with another 
coat, sir; for I have now worn this the better half of 
Jacob's serving time ; also touching my wages, sir — 

HYACINTH. 

Hark, thee, good Sancho, I am benign, and will for- 
give thee ; love lies like a warm sop at my heart, 
comforting my spirit with an unbounded charity. I 
do forgive thee. Get home, Sancho, to our inn ; get 
me an ounce of civet ; I will be sweet as the rosy month 
of June ; get me my scarlet cloak, that shall describe to 
her the ardour of my love ; get me my blue hose, they 
shall bespeak the constancy of the same; put me a green 



scene ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 101 

plume in my bonnet, Sancho, for, o'ertopping all, hope 
crowns my love, foretelling me success in my amorous 
campaign ; and anon follow me to Vasco's; I must ex- 
cuse myself from a supper at the Anchor, to which I 
was bid. Some say that Love and Fortune are blind ; 
I cannot tell, — I do not think they be : — pshaw, 'tis 
only those on whom they never look, who say, for 
spite, that they have got no eyes. 

[ Exeunt severally. 



SCENE II.— A ROOM IN DON PEDRO'S HOUSE. 



Enter Physician and Nurse. 

NURSE. 

Alas, sir ! I am sorry for your pains, but you see 
'tis in vain persuading with her — she drowns all coun 
sel in a sea of tears. 

PHYSICIAN. 

I am most sorry for this calamity that hath fallen 
upon so good a lady. Well, well, Heav'n is wise, and 
knows its own purposes. Since she will not admit 
me, I will depart. Take this with you, worthy nurse ; 
seek not to stop the current of her tears, for like swift 
waters round a based rock, they will in time wear off 
the edges of her grief; let her weep, therefore, sans 
interruption. 

NURSE. 

I have sent for my lady's confessor, sir, hoping she 
may take some comfort from his spiritual converse ; and, 



102 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act iv. 

indeed, she always loved holy father Rodriquez as a 
very father, and was more ruled by his advice than any- 
thing in the world. 

PHYSICIAN. 

Peace be with you ! I hope she may both hearken to 
him and find remedy therein. 

[Exit Physician. 



Enter Friar Rodriquez. 

nurse. 
holy father, welcome ; you're come an hour sooner 
than we thought to have needed you. Alack, alack ! 
and 'tis no longer for marrying, but burying. O my 
dear lord — my good young master, oh ! 

FRIAR. 

Lament not for the dead. How is your lady ? 

NURSE. 

O, sir, in the very deepest pit of affliction ; I think 
she hath wept more tears than would serve to wash me 
of all my sins, old as I am. Her cheeks, which this 
morning did show the brightest and fairest roses in the 
world, be pale, and drawn, and stained with briny 
showers, that have withered the pretty roses clean 
away ; she takes no heed to anything about her, nor 
speaks not save to cry out that she may be shown her 
brother's corpse ; but so strong is the passion of her 
grief, that I have feared to let her see it, lest her poor 
brain be entirely wrecked at the sight. 

FRIAR. 

"Where is she? 



scene ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 103 

NURSE. 

Within her chamber ; shall I tell her you are come ? 

FRIAR. 

No, by no means, I will go thither to her ; 
Let the body of her brother be convey'd, 
Such as it lies, somewhere at hand, to me, 
And if I find that 'twill be best to give her 
The sorrow of its sight. 

NURSE. 

Alack the day ! 
My brave young lord, my handsome, sweet young lord! 

FRIAR. 

Go in and cry thy fill, but weep not here, 

Lest that my heart, which I would hold in strength 

And firmness for thy lady's best support, 

Grow weak with fancying ere I see her sorrow. 

NURSE. 

Heav'n bless you, holy sir ! I cannot hold — 
I will go in. 

[Exit Nurse. 

FRIAR. 

O Thou that doest nought 
But in great mercy to thy sinful children, 
If it please thee well, grant me to pour some patience 
Into this broken heart that thou hast wounded, 
And though thy steps be hid in the deep, yet teach me 
To trust thy wisdom which I cannot fathom, 
And give like trust unto this mourning creature ! 

[Exit. 



104 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act iv. 



SCENE ILL— ESTRELLA'S BED-ROOM. 



(She is lying on the ground. ) 

ESTRELLA. 

Bloody — cold — stiff — dead, gone, for ever gone ! 
O Heaven ! O Heaven ! the only thing I had 
To love^-that lov'd me, torn away from me ! 
His eyes, dim lightiess jellies ! his kind voice, 
A tongueless bell ! his upright gallant limbs, 
Carrion ! O God ! my brother ! my dear brother ! 
Thou hear'st me not, else thou wert here beside me ! 
Thou seest me not, thy child, thy darling — lonely ! 
O earth ! thou unkind mother, that dost clasp 
Him, and not me, open thine arms for both ; 
O take me in, for I am utterly desolate ! 

( She falls again upon the earth.) 

Enter Friar Rodriquez. 

RODRIQUEZ. 

Arise, thou weeping soul, that to the dust 

Of sorrow art brought down, and hearken to me. 

ESTRELLA. 

O father ! he is gone, he's dead, he's dead ! 

My brother, my twin life — that gentle soul 

That thou didst know was pure as HeavVs own light ! 

Father, give help, I drown in this deep grief ! 

RODRIQUEZ. 

My child, have faith in Heaven ! 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 105 

ESTRELLA. 

I have, I have, 
But oh ! but oh ! he cannot live again ! 
Death, know'st thou what it is ? the sweet soul goes, 
Away, away, like to an uncag'd bird, 
Like prison 'd air, like utter'd words it goes, 
And never comes again — O never, never ! 
rodriquez. 

peace, thou sad heart, peace ! 

ESTRELLA. 

O never, never ! 
Never again, in all life's thousand hours, 
And rolling years, and countless little minutes, 
Shall I behold him ! — Day will follow day, 
And night succeed to night, but never more, 
By night or day, will he return to me. 
The seasons, in their walk around the earth, 
Will, turn by turn, go and come back again ; 
All things that have departed may return, 
But life returns not— he returns not ever ! 

1 cannot bear this load, it is too much ! 
I will not bear it ! 

RODRIQUEZ. 

Thou art mad with sorrow, 
And utterest evil in thy bitterness. 

ESTRELLA. 

Let me behold his body once again ! 

The clay, the earth, that was him ; let me see it, 

Dear father, for an instant — but one instant ! 

A look, a look, let me not yet have seen 

My very last of him ! 



106 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act n 

HODRiaUEZ. 

Poor soul ! 
Thy load is great ! Arise and hear me, maiden ; 
If thou wilt swear to me to curb this passion, 
To hold thy grief in with a stedfast courage, 
And bear in mind the hand that does chastise thee — 

ESTRELLA. 

I will, I will, — indeed, indeed, I will ! 

RODRIQ.UEZ. 

Estrella, hold thy spirit to its vow. 

Heav'n grant what I attempt may have good issue ; 

Art thou prepared to look upon the corpse 

Of him thou lov^st ? 

ESTKELLA. 

I am. 

RODRIQUEZ. 

Then turn thee hither. 
Give me thy hand. 

ESTRELLA. 

You see how firm I am ; 

You see I strive, I wrestle with my grief, — 
I know 'tis the good God hath struck me thus, — 
I'm calm, you see, I'm very stedfast, father — 
I am resigned — I'm still — I am content. 
But I did love him so ! 

( She falls upon the body.) 



En'er Nurse, 

KODRIQUEZ. 

What is the matter ? 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 107 

NURSE. 

O, sir, they say they must speak with my lady ; — Don 
Gomez, the noble counsellor, and many gentlemen who 
be come from the court ; they cannot be denied ; 'tis 
pressing business, touching my dear lord's death. 

RODRIQUEZ. 

Admit them ; it may force her from this frenzy, 
And for a moment stop her sorrow's course. 
Hold up thy head, Estrella, rouse thyself, 
Here be at hand some come to question with thee. 

ESTRELLA. 

What must I do ? O I am drunk with weeping — 
I cannot stand, nor speak, nor hear, nor see them. 

(She falls into a chair.) 

Enter Don Gomez and Attendants! 

GOMEZ. 

Hail to this house of sorrow ! noble lady, 

I come a messenger from the assembled council, 

Who are now met to try your most sad cause. 

NURSE. 

I do not think she hears him. 

RODRIQUEZ. 

Peace; she hears mayhap, but heeds not. 

Sir, go on ; I will accept your message for the lady, 

And answer it as my best ability affords — go on. 

GOMEZ. 

In few, Don Carlos having openly 
Avow'd the bloody deed — 

estrella — (starting up.) 

What's that you say ? 
Say that again™- 1 say, say that again. 



108 STAR OF SEVJLLE. [act iv. 

GOMEZ. 

Did you not know that this was done by him ? 

ESTRELLA. 

Carlos ! 

GOMEZ. 

Don Carlos is the murderer. 

ESTRELLA. 

Don Carlos is the murderer ! You're old, 
Close on your coffin's brink, you would not lie ; 
You're cloth'd in black, too, — death is your acquaint- 

ance- 
You do not lie — go on — be not afraid ! 
If my eye glazes, and the blood turn back, 
Nor pour its wonted tribute in my face ; 
These be the weaknesses of mortal houses, 
Our souls are stronger built, mine totters not : 
Go on. And so Don Carlos slew my brother ? 

GOMEZ. 

Madam, I fear you overstrain your strength. 

ESTRELLA. 

He did not say for which of all his benefits, 
His tender love, his firm and trusting faith, 
His sister's hand, and wide estates — he said not 
For which of these, my brother's death was guerdon. 

GOMEZ. 

He holds an unlock'd silence on the whole, 
Save that his hand cut short Don Pedro's life. 

ESTRELLA. 

I thank you, sir, and these good gentlemen, 
For coming hither ; please you to return, 
And tell the honourable Council I 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 109 

Will forthwith furnish me with such advice, 
How to proceed in this my extremity, 
As my more settled wits may tender me. 

GOMEZ. 

Heaven strengthen you, most honourable madam ! 
Farewell ! 

[Exeunt. 

RODRIQUEZ. 

Now look to see this calm unnatural 

Break up in one wild, furious storm of grief. 

NURSE. 

The fountains of her tears be sure run dry. 

RODRIQUEZ. 

I would she'd weep again. Madam — Estrella. 

ESTRELLA. 

My lord — ah ! holy father, is it thou ? 

RODRIQUEZ. 

How fares it, lady ? 

ESTRELLA. 

Passing strong, and well. 
When the sap's in the bough, and the green leaves 
Shoot forth, and shake in the evening wind in spring, 
The lightning may burn up the sprouting tree, 
And blast its healthful life ; but look, good father, 
Didst ever mark a sapless, leafless witherling, 
That stands all shrivelled in the bosky dells, 
Mocking the summer with its barrenness ? 
Think'st thou that blighted thing fears any storm, 
Or dreads the bolt that makes its forest brothers 
Writhe their green, trembling arms ? — Go to — 'tis past. 



110 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act iv. 

Where is Petruchio? Poor old servant ! this 
Will bring his life's brief story near its end. 

NURSE. 

Madam, I will go seek him. [Exit Nurse. 

ESTRELLA. 

Holy father ! 
When all is done that I have yet to do, 
I shall this worthless poor mortality 
To the keeping of a cloister dedicate — 
That when this body is released from the earth, 
My soul may be far on its way towards heaven. 
Think of this for me ; — there is something more — 
Wilt thou, dear father, in its couch of mould 
Lay this poor broken fragment of existence ? 
Let me — no, no— I will not look again ; 
You'll bury him beside my mother — and leave 
A narrow space — close — close to him for me. 

Enter Nurse, crying. 
O madam ! O my lady ! 

RODRIQUEZ. 

Hold thy peace ! 
Cram not ill news so fast into our ears. 

ESTRELLA. 

There's no ill news now in the world for me. 

NURSE. 

Passing through the offices to call Petruchio to your 
bidding, madam, T heard a wail, and coming to the 
place, found Livio standing by the poor old man, who 
on his chair sat as though listening to the news of my 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. Ill 

master's death ; but when that Livio had done speaking, 
he sat list'ning still — nor moved, nor spoke, nor wept, 
— for he was dead ! 

ESTRELLA. 

O iron youth ! that can such sorrow hold 

As mine, nor break one thread of thy strong woof ! 

Whilst threadbare age upon its worn-out strings, 

Receiving but a touch, they straight give way ! 

Father, as of my spiritual dwelling 

Thou hast the rule, so to this house of death 

Put thou some order. I am going now 

To the council-house. 

NURSE. 

The council-house, good madam ? 

ESTEELLA. 

When I return, let this be ta'en away, 
And I will then right all uneven things 
That yet may lack it — ere I follow thee 
To the convent. 

RODRIQUEZ. 

Heav'n uphold you, my dear lady ! 

[Exeunt severally. 



]2 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act iv. 



SCENE IV.— THE COUNCIL CHAMBER. 



Don Gomez, Don Arias, Count Lomaria, the Al- 
cades and Magistrates of Seville ; also Vasco, 
Curio, Valentine, and many others, Don 
Carlos. 

GOMEZ. 

You all have heard this bloody story o'er, 
But to proceed in the accustom'd form — ■ 
Don Arias, my good lord, we must beseech you, 
To speak to the matter you were witness to. 

ARIAS. 

My lord, returning from the Count Lomaria's 

Last night, or rather at first peep of day, 

In the cross street I came upon Don Carlos, 

Who with most furious gesture aim'd against 

Himself, did offer war with his own life. 

This I prevented — when lying on the ground, 

All soaked in blood, and gashed with running wounds, 

Don Pedro's lifeless body I beheld. 

Whereat, heaping amazement on amazement, 

Don Carlos cried, " I have done this," and o'er 

Repeating these wild words, fell down in a swoon. 

The alarm being given, and the guard at hand, 

I presently departed, leaving all things 

To day's clear eye and the wisdom of this court. 

I think there be one here, who passing by, 

Was also witness to the whole — he's yonder. 



scene iv.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 113 

. GOMEZ. 

Sir, pray stand forth, if you can anything 
Add, or detract, from the evidence we've heard. 

VASCO. 

Nothing, my lord ; nothing, save that 'tis true : 
I heard those words ; would I had had no hearing, 
Or that infirmity to youth unknown, 
Had made the fine sense dull, that now, perforce, 
Makes me a witness 'gainst this honour'd gentleman 

Enter an attendant, who whispers Don Gomez. 

GOMEZ. 

'Tis very well: we shall obey his majesty. 
In all just dealing — let the gentleman enter. 
Don Carlos, here is come a messenger 
From the King's grace, commending to your use, 
The great abilities of the ablest man in Seville — 
SkilFd to unravel strongest knots of law, 
And wind ev'n justice to what point he would ; 
Who, by the King offer'd great gain and honour 
To plead your cause, hath for your own name's safc 
Come hither unfee'd to speak in your behalf. 
Admit him straight! 

Enter a Lawyer. 

CARLOS. 

To him, as to the court, my answer's brief — 

I thank you, sir, for this your Christian courtesy 

To one most worthless of such generous dealing ; 

But deem too nobly of your eloquence, 

Which, as 'tis right persuasive, comes from the heart, 



114 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act iv. 

To clog it with so ill a cause as mine, 
Or think it could its conquering way pursue, 
Bowed by the weight of blood. Sirs, I am guilty — 
You've heard the sum and substance of my plea 
In those three words. 

LAWYER. 

O noble sir, beseech you, 
Cast not your precious life away so suddenly. 
It is not wise, or well, believe me, sir — 
There have been straights as great as this you stand in, 
Where gaps have yet been found — escapes been made, 
As through the air, or underneath the earth ; 
Yea, in the closest gripe of the grim law, 
Means to slip through have yet been sometimes found — 
Oh, let me speak ! 

CARLOS. 

Ah, but that this were spared me ! 
Look yonder ! see'st thou through the entrance porch, 
A woman coming towards us stedfastly ? 
Think'st thou a world of words as musical 
As brooks in summer, strong as the sunward flight 
Of eagle's wings — rich as the golden chains 
That from Apollo's lips take spirits captive, 
Could, in great Justice's scale outweigh one tear 
Of hers, or talk down that wan, silent grief 
That speaks in her bloodless cheek? 

Estrella enters, attended by two servants. 

GOMEZ. 

The lady Estrella ! 



scene iv.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 115 

ESTRELLA. 

Let not surprise o'ertake ye, that a woman, 

Alone, unfenc'd by any guard but sorrow, 

I come into the assembly of your wisdom. 

I know 'tis 'gainst the custom of my sex, 

Thus in the eye and gaze of men to stand, 

Unpropp'd, unscreen'd, and unprotected : 

But, in brief words I'll tell ye why this is, 

And why no woman's shame upon my cheek 

Does homage to your sovereignty of nature. 

I have no guardian — no protector — none — 

No father — mine died ere I grew a woman — 

I have forgotten him — I have no brother, 

For mine was murder'd yesternight in the street ; — 

Therefore it is I stand alone before ye — 

Alone here, as alone in the wide world. 

CARLOS. 

O when did sorrow bribe the soul of pity, 
With such a voice ! 

GOMEZ. 

Madam, we are intent, 
To do your most foul wrong a full requital. 

ESTRELLA. 

Nor let it move your wonder that I come 
Attired thus into this grave assembly, 
Mocking the solemn aspect of your council 
With these gay robes — it is my wedding-day ! 
You start at that ; in faith, my lords, 'tis true — 
It is my wedding-day — I am a bride ; 
And the reason why my husband is not here 
Beside me, filling up the vacant place 

i 2 



116 STAR OF SEVILLE. , [act iv. 

Of father, brother, all the world in one, 

Is that he stands yonder — the breaker down 

Of the only stay on earth I had to lean on. 

ARIAS. 

O strange and horrible ! 

CARLOS. 

"Tis true — 'tis true : 
O ye delay too long ; torture like this 
Is more than guilty caitiff ever bore, 
Groaning upon the wheel. Sentence me ! sentence me ! 
I'm rack'd beyond the endurance of a man ; 
And if ye longer hold me in this anguish, 
Your scaffold will go bloodless, and the throngs 
Of my fellow-citizens lose the show of death, 
They be already come abroad to gape at. 
Your sentence, in the name of mercy, sirs ! 

(Don Gomez speaks with several of the Coun- 
sellors, and then rises.) 

GOMEZ. 

Don Carlos, Count of Mueyn and Valentar, 

In that you have confessed yourself the slayer 

Of your fellow-man, you are condemned to death ; 

Moreover, in that you have broken through 

The sov'reign proclamation of the King, 

Forbidding any to walk armed abroad, 

You're doubly doomed. My lords, break up the court. 

Your hour of death will be made known to you, 

In time to fit your soul to meet it bravely. 

[Exeunt Gomez, Arias, Lomaria, Alcades, and 
Magistrates. 

carlos (to the Lawyer. ) 
Sir, you may do me a most infinite good, 



scene iv.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 117 

'Stead of the one your bounty proffered me, 
Now that all's over, and the doom pronounc'd — 
May I not speak one word to yonder lady ? 

LAWYER. 

That, sir, at least I will entreat for you. 

(He crosses to Estrella, who is going out.) 
Madam, this most unhappy gentleman, 
Whom now you should regard with some compassion, 
Since he is of the things that are no longer — 
Beseeches but to speak one word with you. 

ESTRELLA. 

Tell him to send his message by my brother ; 
Or keep it till to-night, when we're alone 
In our marriage chamber. 

\_Eooeunt Estrella and Servants. 

LAWYER. 

Was it spoke in earnest ? 
Her eye did mock at her lip, as the words dropt from it. 
That is a brain that will not hold its seat — 
The flickering eye showed reason's lamp was dying. 
I will not bear her message. (Goes back to Carlos. 

Sir, the lady 
You see is gone, and will not hear your suit. 

CARLOS. 

Not yet, she is not gone yet, for I see 
Her gliding form fading away from me; 
And her voice possesses still the list'ning air, 
Which will not lose its impress. Fare ye well ! 
Sweet love, and bitter life ! since ye might not 
Together dwell, 'tis best to leave ye both, 
And not keep one having lost the other. Sir, 



118 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act iv. 

One more request — my last — pray you accept it : 
Commend me to his majesty the King, 
Tell him, in all devoted humble duty 
And truest love, I was his servant ever. 
Give him this paper ; but observe me well, 
Not till I'm dead. Will you do this ? 

LAWYER. 

I will. 

CARLOS. 

May heav'n requite you, sir : now to my dungeon. 

[Exit Carlos guarded. Exeunt the rest severally. 



act v.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 119 

ACT V. 
SCENE I.— A CHAMBER IN ANTONIO'S HO USE. 



Enter Florilla and Isabel. 

ISABEL. 

Ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! I pr'ythee give me leave, there 
shall no play, — ha ! ha ! no acted play, — show better, 
— ha ! ha ! ha ! 

FLORILLA. 

Nay now, but, coz — come, coz — come, Isabel; stint 
laughing, and let's to work. 

ISABEL. 

Pray Heaven I die not on't ! — ha ! ha ! ha ! 

FLOKILLA. 

Beshrew thee, then ! what, wench, hast lost thy wits ? — 
marry coz, coz. Hang thee, vexatious minx I thou 
puttest me past my patience. 

ISABEL. 

1 have not put thee far; ha! ha I is't not a jest? is 
not a jest a thing to laugh at ? 

FLORILLA. 

Yea, but not this jest — lo you now, Isabel, we lose 
the time, he will be here, and nothing ready. My fa- 
ther will be coming, or Vasco, or and we shall lose 

the very prime of our sport, for thy laughing. 

ISABEL. 

Nay, that were a bad joke at best. Where be these 
diamonds ? 



120 STAR OF SEVILLE [act v. 

FLORILLA. 

Here, in this casket : 1 pr'ythee put them in my hair 
for me — quick. 

ISABEL. 

Meantime, do thou tell me, what for thou hast indicted 
this same amorous clothes'-peg ? 

FLORILLA. 

Marry, first in the street, as thou saw'st his outward 
man did hit my fancy's humour, as showing him very fit — 

ISABEL. 

For a very mad jest — where shall I place this band ? 

FLORILA. 

So, o'er the brow ; 'twas so my mother wore it, they 
were her wedding diamonds, rest her soul ! 

ISABEL. 

Amen ! — and second, how ? good preacher, finish thy 
points, though they were fifty. 

FLORILLA. 

Why, I have since learned, that this same many- 
coloured fly, is the veriest braggadocio that ever flinched 
from a chaste woman's frown ; fetch me yon mirror. 

ISABEL. 

Angels defend us ! and where heard'st thou this ? 

FLORILLA. 

Pedrillo late last night was with them at the Anchor, 
where, as thou know'st, they drank the sun to his bed, 
and well nigh out of it again ; among the guests was 
this same resistless wooer, who, as he saith, did utter 
such incredible tales of his amorous exploits, and did, 
in such wise, misprize and set at nought us luckless 
women, holding the conquests that he made by handfuls 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 121 

as cheap as handfuls of dust, that Pedrillo swears he 
must have lov'd more ladies than would people all the 
seraglios of the East. 

ISABEL. 

Is he rich ? he sure must be ; for" he hath no charm 
else to tempt the veriest wanton— he must be very -rich. 

FLOKILLA. 

Tut, dost thou believe all this ; credit me, coz, if there 
be knaves of such a sort as this fellow would pass~him- 
self for, there be also fools that have enough iniquity in 
them to wish for a villanous renown which they have 
not the daring to achieve, and who think by boasting 
and big words to make good their claim to an infamous 
repute which they have not the boldness to merit in very 
deed — and such an one, or I am much deceived, is this. 
Among many others did he tell the tale of this same Se- 
govian lady, to whom he said he was by contract bound. 
This is the fair forsaken thou must enact, and it shall go 
hard if between us we do not show this same all-con- 
quering senor the mettle of our Seville ladies. 

ISABEL. 

Art thou not horribly afeard of being alone with one 
so badly reputed ? 

FLORILLA. 

Afraid ! I'll tell thee, Isabel, it is our weakness makes 
these boasters strong. Credit me, did we but know and 
feel our footing firm, making a high and resolute mind 
in us stand stead of outward and mere bodily vigour, 
there's not the boldest braggart of them all but should 
strike colours to the veriest maid that ever bore our sex's 
blushing standard on her cheek. But for this mannikin 
— did'st look in his face? 



122 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v. 

ISABEL. 

I looked for his face, but indeed he was so mon- 
strously bearded that he may have one or no for aught 
mine eyes can vouch. 

FLORILLA. 

Faugh ! a beard becomes a man as well as the want of 
it becomes a woman ; but to see such a villanous bush of 
hair on the skin of what hath the mincing gait and lisp- 
ing syllables of a pampered wanton, begets a very dis- 
gustful indignation in me. But come, Isabel, unbind 
thy hair, I pr'ythee, so, upon thy shoulders — now put me 
on a look like the forsaken Dido — could'st thou not weep 
me a tear or two ? 

ISABEL. 

I'll use all endeavour. 

FLORILLA. 

Now spread thine arms abroad thus: weep, rant, rave, 
be disconsolate ; remember he hath deserted thee, and 
thou hast followed hither to claim him. 

ISABEL. 

O fear me not, I shall be perfect woe begone ! give 
me the mirror. "Faithless and perjured have I found 
thee !" Florilla, methinks this disordered head-tire is 
something too becoming ; for, say he take me at my 
word, and marry me — what then ? 

FLORILLA. 

Marry, we will stop short ere the jest come to that ; 
and having well indulged our merriment at the expense 
of his confusion, turn him loose again. I hear voices. 
Now into that chamber, be still, and on thy hopes of a 
husband see thou laugh not ; the signal shall be these 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 123 

words, " My whole estate I will bestow on thee,'" then 
rush thou in. 

ISABEL. 

I will not fail. " Traitor forsworn — base, base de- 
ceiver r 

FLORILLA. 

Peace, wilt thou raise the city ? 

ISABEL. 

I am rehearsing. 

FLORILLA. 

Now get thee gone — some one is coming. 

ISABEL. 

" Are these thy vows, seducer ?" — May I not scratch 
thy face ? 

FLORILLA. 

No, madcap. 

ISABEL. 

Nor pluck thee by the hair ? 

FLORILLA. 

No, no ! what, art thou moonstruck ? 

ISABEL. 

It will not seem natural, an I leave no token on thee 
— beseech thee, let me beat thee. 

FLORILLA. 

Beshrew thee, no. Hark ! here be footsteps. 

ISABEL. 

One little pinch or pull — I will not tear both thine 
eyes out. Is my hair rightly disposed ? 

FLORILLA. 

'Tis desperately well — and I, look I the fair majestic- 
countess to the life ? 



1:24 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v. 

ISABEL. 

Fair enough for a duchess, coz ; but for majesty — ■ 
good lack ! thou lack'st three inches of it by this light. 

[Exit into chamber. 

Enter Pedrillo. 

PEDRILLO. 

Your guest is come. 

FLORILLA. 

Is Perez ready ? 

PEDRILLO. 

So please you, he waits in the private passage. 

FLORILLA. 

Good : remember your parts— few words, save oaths, 
and much show of anger ; and see you lack not these 
same cudgels I spoke of. Get thee into thy hiding- 
place, and let Nicolo and Vincentio usher in the stranger. 
(Exit Pedeillo.J Now then to take my state. 
Isabel (thrusting her head out of the door.) 

Doth not thy heart beat ? 

FLORILLA. 

Not with fear — peace! 

f Isabel withdraws. Enter Hyacinth, ushered 
in by two serving men. 

HYACINTH. 

Most fair and unutterable lady ! may it please your 
loveliness for awhile to banish from your exquisite pre- 
sence these menials ; for, indeed, my love is of a qua- 
lity that brooks little ceremony, and flies but lamely in 
a full company. 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 125 

FLORILLA. 

You may withdraw. [Exeunt Servants.] So, being 
gone, sir, you may let loose the torrent of your elo- 
quence ; but, of one thing I forwarn you, you must 
not be too passionate with me ; for, indeed, I am but 
young, and unapt at replying to very importunate 
wooing — besides, so much of fear rises in a maiden's 
breast, even at your renowned name, that 

HYACINTH. 

Tfaith, sweet, I will be merciful : I will but press thee 
coldly at this first trial of thy strength, lest indeed, (for 
rumour will have it I am irresistible,) by too swift con- 
quering, thy defeat lose something of its dearness. 

FLORILLA. 

O, I am much bound to you. Pray you sit by me, 
and tell me. 

HYACINTH. 

Nay, not so ; we do know our place, fair lady — slaves 
sit not in the presence of their masters, vassals take not 
ease before their lords, nor subjects before their sove- 
reigns ; sit thou rather, and hearken while I swear to 
thee, that I will dote upon thee as long as the sun doth 
sit in the sky. 

FLORILLA. 

By the clock twelve hours. 

HYACINTH. 

Nay, then, as long as all created things shall hold 
their existence will I love thee. I would not have thee 
doubt me now, sweet lady ; nor would I, that thou 
may est believe, have thee inquire how often I have 
sworn such vows : but, be content, I have forgotten 



126 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v. 

others ; but thou art indeed as far above all whom I ever 
loved, as my love was above their merit ; but, I pray 
thee, fix me some time when I may break this generous 
armistice. I grant thy maiden scruples, and by the 
ardour of my suit, frame an excuse for thy capitulation. 

FLORILLA. 

First, sir, let me entreat you, answer me this, What 
usage might your wife look for from you ? 

HYACINTH. 

I will love thee, by this light, three calendar months, 
cherish thee the other nine of the first twelve, and 
maintain thee all my life. Thou see'st I'm sincere, and 
therein kind. 

FLORILLA. 

Indeed, most kind ! And how would you require that 
your wife govern herself to pleasure you ? 

HYACINTH. 

O she, doubtless, would be submissive; for, doating 
on me, as 'tis like she would, obedience would seem easy 
duty to her. Moreover, she would be chaste; for, 
having me to husband, the world could afford her no 
temptation such as she was already possessed of; thus of 
her submission and chastity I hold myself assured. 

FLORILLA. 

Truly I think you have good cause. 

HYACINTH. 

Though there is one thing of which I must forewarn 
thee. Art thou jealous now ? or of an even and a trust- 
ing endurance ? 

FLORILLA. 

Verily, having never yet been much moved to love, I 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 127 

could but hardly say whether love would move me to 
trust or doubting. 

HYACINTH. 

O thou wilt be horribly jealous of me ; I do spy it in 
the curl of thy lip, and in the eagerness of eye with 
which thou dost survey me. 

FLORILLA. 

Who, I ! (aside.) This is the most intolerable cox- 
comb that one shall wish to be pestered withal ! (aloud.) 
I think, senor, as you say ; loving, as it is doubtless I shall 
love you, some alloy of jealousy may indeed mix with 
the virgin ore of my affection. 

HYACINTH. 

Nay, there is not much in that, sweet ; and so thou 
bearest thy malady meekly, and lookest me quietly 
broken-hearted, goest clad in a yellow robe, and pale 
cheeks, so thou limit thy jealousy within a "Nay, now, 
my sweet lord," sighed forth when I do lie at some 
lady's foot, or three tears big enough to be seen rolling, 
and heard falling, when I kiss her before dancing, — good 

it is well, and indeed I allow thy heart this vent. 

But come not nigh me in the stormy jealous, the sullen 
jealous, or the whining jealous moods, — for I am a per- 
fect tiger being roused ; and moreover it is incredible to 
what a point silence in suffering beseem eth a wise woman, 
and a wife. 

FLORILLA. 

I do think indeed an I am ever jealous of you, you 
will not hear me say so much — but, senor, you still stand, 
let me beseech you — 



128 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v. 

HYACINTH. 

Sweet, take no heed ; I — I — , truly it is a more manly 
exercise to stand than to sit ; sitting being essentially 
the posture of hens — were it not, indeed, that — I would 
kneel, and swear to thee. 

FLORILLA. 

sweet, sweet sir, kneel, kneel ! I never did have a 
man kneel before me in my life ! I do entreat you, 
worship. 

HYACINTH. 

That I worship thee with my soul of souls, sweet lady 
and most ineffable, is true, and not to be doubted ; but 
that I can bend my outward man in token of the same, 
I doubt, in respect that — my hose — 

FLORILLA. 

1 will be satisfied with the very shadow of a genu- 
flexion ; do but so much as approach the earth within an 
inch with your knee, and. as I am a maid, come what 
come will ; my whole estate I will bestow on thee, and — 

[Hyacinth/#//s on his knees. 

Enter Isabel from the inner room. 

ISABEL. 

Where have I been ! whence come I ! where am I ! 
whither go 1 ! what voice was that ! what sound is in 
mine ears ! 

HYACINTH. 

Is she mad ? is she mad ? is she mad ? 

FLORILLA. 

Stand up, pray you pull not my farthingale so un- 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 129 

kindly ; hang not about me thus : stand up upon your 
legs, I say ! 

HYACINTH. 

I can't, I can't — my hose are crack'd — O my hose — 
my beautiful — my beloved hose ! 

ISABEL. 

Hark ! — he calls me his beautiful — his beloved — 'twas 
thus he ever spoke to me. 

HYACINTH. 

I am afeard of her ! I cannot abide anything mad ! 
I did once run away from a mad dog. Pray you let her 
not come near me. 

ISABEL. 

Ha ! I hear ! I know ! I see 'tis thou ! base, base de- 
luder ! 

HYACINTH. 

Beseech you let her not scratch my eyes out. 

FLORILLA. 

What means this violence ? Who and what are you, 
madam ? 

ISABEL. 

A forlorn, forsaken, deluded, deserted, deceived, and 
desolate maid. 

FLORILLA. 

Who has thus wrong'd you ? 

ISABEL. 

He, he who now brings his stale oaths to you. Hya- 
cinth ! my love ! my lord ! 

FLORILLA. 

Thy love ! thy lord ! 

K 



130 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v. 

HYACINTH. 

Believe her not, sweet, believe her not ; — 'tis an illu- 
sion — 'tis madness — she has been wronged by some fair 
youth like me, and raves distractedly. Begone, beautiful 
maniac, I know thee not ! 

ISABEL. 

Not know me ! — me, Amadalinda, the pride of Spain, 
the flower of Segovia, till thou, with thy fake vows, 
didst wither me — dost thou not know me? 

FLORILLA. 

Dost thou know her ? 

HYACINTH. 

No, as I am a gentleman ! 

ISABEL. 

Hast thou forgotten all thy vows of love ? 

FLORILLA. 

What, didst thou utter vows of love ? 

HYACINTH. 

No, as I am a man. 

ISABEL. 

Dar'st thou deny the contract sealed to me to be my 
husband ? 

FLORILLA. 

Dar'st thou woo me, having a contract sealed to be her 
husband ? 

HYACINTH. 

No ! no ! no ! as I am a christian ! I know her not, I 
made no vow — I sealed no contract. — (aside.) O Lord, 
O Lord ! His the devil, who hearing my lies, hath embo- 
died one of them. 



scene i.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 131 

ISABEL. 

Nay then, traitor ! there be those at hand shall right 
me : and since the voice of love hath no power to entreat, 
the swords of my kinsmen shall force you to do me jus- 
tice — what ho ! my noble champions there ! come forth ! 

Enter two serving men in disguise. 

ISABEL. 

Lay on the villain there ! 

HYACINTH. 

St. Nicholas ! St. Jerome ! St. Vincent ! and all the 
saints ! 

FLORILLA. 

Within there ! Pietro ! Vincentio ! 

Enter two Servants. 
This to me ! Let go my robe, villain ! cling not about 
my feet ! 

ISABEL. 

Now I charge you, fall too and spare not ! 

HYACINTH. 

Gentlemen, gentlemen, sticks ! sticks ! they cure and 
kill not : no weapons — I'll take a cudgelling in all kind- 
ness, — pray do not murder me. 

FLORILLA. 

Coward ! do as I bid you. 

HYACINTH. 

Help ! murder ! ave-maria ! murder ! murder ! pa- 
ter-noster ! rape arson, robbery, murder, murder ! 
murder ! 

k 2 



132 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act y. 

Enter Vasco. 

HYACINTH. 

Yet another,— I'm dead ! (He falls on the floor.) 

VASCO. 

What uproar's here ? who be these men ? Florilla ! 
Isabel ! what thing is this ? 

FLORILLA. 

A lover of mine, who hath just tendered me this 
bribe. 

VASCO. 

Yea, thou silken trumpery, didst thou dare — 

HYACINTH. 

Stop — stop — make not a hole in my doublet — let not 
cold iron go through that ! 

Enter Antonio. 

ANTONIO. 

What mummery is this? Vasco, hold — daughter, and 
mistress Isabel, I pray you let these confusions cease. 
Fie, fie, for shame, for shame — get you to your buttery 
and offices, knaves. [Exeunt servants.] Have ye not 
heard the news ? 

hyacinth — (creeping out.) 

Bless thee, old newsmonger. 

ANTONIO. 

Don Carlos is condemned for the slaughter of Count 
Pedro, and this very day at sunset is the doom : the town 
is still and silent as a vault, and of the few that wander 
through the streets not one but wears some token of 
mourning, but most in his countenance. All this doth 
pass, while your mad fancies here keep such a glare of 



scene ii.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 133 

noise and merriment that the dark atmosphere that low- 
ers without has not come nigh you. Go to your chamber, 
daughter, and let me entreat you both to put yourselves 
into such sable attire as vou have at hand. Vasco, come 
with me. [Exeunt Vasco and Antonio, 

florilla. 
My heart stands still, Isabel — speak — speak ! 

ISABEL. 

O my sweet lady ! \_Ecceunt. 



SCENE II.— A STREET IN SEVILLE. 

Valentine and Curio meeting. 

curio. 
Whither away so fast ? 

VALENTINE. 

To the execution. 

CURIO. 

The execution ! soft, pray take me with you. 

VALENTINE. 

Well, come along. 

CURIO. 

No, no, in thy meaning, I mean ; murder, and trial, and 
execution, all in a day — 'tis something quick. 

VALENTINE. 

The King, it seems, had ordered that the sentence 
should he pronounced, but not the hour of doom, 
hoping, no doubt, out of this loophole to work some 
escape for Don Carlos. 

CURIO. 

Well? 



134 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v. 

VALENTINE. 

But the council did not disperse when the court 
broke up, but still remained advising, and Lord Gomez, 
the old childless lord, you know, together with Don 
Arias, it seems, spake so strongly for the execution, that 
it was universally decreed at sunset. 

CURIO. 

What said the King to this ? 

VALENTINE. 

Unable to undo the strong resolve of the council, he 
fell into a passion of sorrow and indignation ; chid the 
old lord from his presence like a storm, and banished his 
bastard cousin to his castle in the Nevada. The court 
leaves Seville to-morrow. 

CURIO. 

They're come for all the world like a thunder-cloud 
over us. Would they had never come ! I know not why, 
but I think they are the cause of all this. 

VALENTINE. 

How so ? 

CURIO. 

Heaven knows — I fancy it. How bore Don Carlos the 
warning of his death ? 

VALENTINE. 

Exceeding well. At first the natural fear of dissolution 
which all flesh inherits made the colour run from his 
cheeks and lips, but presently he seemed to embrace his 
fate with a constant spirit, and commending himself to 
the King's gracious remembrance, sent for his confessor. 

CURIO. 

() Valentine, he should have died in battle: the Moors, 



scene in.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 135 

and not an executioner, should have been the ending of 
that gallant heart. 

VALENTINE. 

Come, I must go. Will you go with me ? 

CURIO. 

Ay, to the saddest sight I think I ere shall look on. 

[EateUnt. 



SCENE III.— A PRISON. 

Carlos and Father Rodriquez discovered. 

RODRIQUEZ. 

let not, my dear son, thy thoughts return, 
With this declining sunbeam, towards the earth, 
But with a spirit strong and confident 

Fix them alone in heav'n. 

CARLOS. 

Good holy father, 

1 strive in vain : my thoughts awhile upborne 
Upon the heavenward wings of thy devotion, 
Anchor beyond the dark abysm of death ; 
But soon a thousand fleshly monitors 

Beckon them back with weak and earthly promptings. 

Thou say'st 'tis blest to die in penitence, 

And yet I feel 'tis sad to die in youth. 

Ere life has had its share death claims the whole — 

Ere toil of war and manly enterprise 

Have worn these sinews weary they must rest, 

Rest in the dust. I bring not to the grave 

Age and disease, a living carrion, 



136 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v 

But healthful limbs, upon whose lusty strength 
The loathsome worm before his time must banquet, 
The blood within my veins is not bak'd up 
With sullen spleen or frozen o'er with eld, 
It flows a strong, warm, rapid, living tide, 
And I must pour it out upon a scaffold. 
A scaffold ! there's the sting : father, my fathers 
Were born of kings, lived all like noblemen, 
And died like warriors. I'm a felon, father ! 
A midnight murderer ! a drunken stabber ! 
And I must answer this upon the block : 
O bitter fortune — bitter fate ! 

rodriquez. 

My son, 
'Tis bitter, but 'tis given thee to drink. 
O turn thine eyes unto a brighter scene. 

CARLOS. 

Whither? to that sad home, where she — my love — 
My wife, sits weeping o'er her brother's corse ! 
Father, what had she done, how had she sinn'd, 
That Heaven thus visits her ? For me, I know 
My life's bought with a price, a bargain struck 
Fairly 'twixt guilt and death; but she was holy 
As saints that sin not ! O why is she doom'd 
To misery, by whose side death seems to smile ? 

RODRIQUEZ. 

Question not thou th' invisible doom of fate, 
Nor let thy thought presumptuous seek to pierce 
The mystery of Heaven's high dispensations. 
She will be cared for by a care beyond 
Earth's closest love — she will be strengthened 



scene iv.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 137 

To bear the burthen that is laid upon her. 

Howe'er bereaved, she is not forsaken, 

And o'er her desolate and forlorn state 

The Father of the fatherless and widow 

Will stretch his wing, — trust me, she will be car'd for. 

CARLOS. 

This is our wedding-day. See, the sun sinks. 
At this same hour yestreen I told my soul, 
" To-morrow, as the sun goes down, thy bride 
Will cross thy father's threshold ;" lying hope, 
That sat'st in the sinking sunbeam yesterday, 
Where art thou ? O where art thou ? 

RODRIQUEZ. 

Gracious Heaven ! 
Look with thy mercy on this sinful man, 
That clings to the earth whence thou hast summon'd him, 
And with his arms still hugging to the last, 
The life thou claim'st, falls headlong in his grave. 
Thy love will die and be a saint in heaven, 
When Heaven hath done its will with her on earth. 
Fie, fie, this grief's unmanly — 'tis not holy. 

CARLOS 

Art thou a man, that thus upbraid'st my woe? 

Have I not grief enough, but thou must cast 

Thy heavy censure on me ? sinking me 

Yet deeper in this drowning sea of sorrow ? 

Do I not bleed enough ? lack I yet more— 

Thy cutting, keen reproach, to wound and pierce me? 

rodriquez. 
So help me Heaven, as such unchristian purpose 
Was farthest from my soul ! Behold, my son, 



138 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v. 

Although I strive to check thy fruitless tears, 
Look how my own come swelling o'er their bounds, 
To bear me witness 'gainst such accusation. 

CARLOS. 

Forgive me ! O forgive me, holy man ! 

My grief like frantic fever loathes its cure — 

But O, thou dost not know ! — 

RODRIQUEZ. 

I do ! I do ! 
And my old wither'd heart weeps blood for thee ; 
These be strange dealings of great Providence, 
And my bewilder'd spirit halts amazed, 
And wonderingly asks why these things are ! 
But O, such thoughts are evil — let us hope, 
And pray, my son — pray fervently, that death 
May be to thee not curst, but blest indeed ! 
A moment's pang for an eternal bliss ! 
A moment's darkness for immortal light ! 
A moment's poverty for boundless wealth ! 
Earth, earth for heaven ! a dungeon for a throne ! 

(Noise without.) 

CARLOS. 

Hark ! they are come. 

RODRIQUEZ. 

Be of good courage, Carlos. 
Enter Jailor. 

JAILOR. 

Sir, it is sunset, and the guard's at hand. 

CARLOS. 

Farewell, my prison walls, last things of earth 



scene iv.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 139 

That I shall see — fetters that yet I grasp 
And feel, farewell ! Existences that still 
Discourse unto my senses, fare ye well ! 
'Tis past. Give me thy hand, father ; be near me 
Until the last. 

RODRIQUEZ. 

I will, my dear, dear son. 

[Exeunt. 



SCENE IV.— A CHAMBER IN ESTRELLA'S HOUSE. 



Enter Estrella. 

ESTRELLA. 

So, so — alone ! — they have not followed me. 
The day grows dim, but yet I know 'tis morning. 
We've not been married yet — an hour ere noon 
Will be the wedding. Look I not brave, think ye ? — 
Shall I not be a handsome bride ? You're there, 
Brother ; — why do you wear that bloody cloak ? 
You're pale, you're pale — ah ! I'd forgot — he's dead ; 
But he will give the bride away. Again— 
They're come again. I'll hide myself — down — down- 
Here i' the ground ! 

Enter Nurse and Gentlewoman. 

NURSE. 

Sweet virgin ! on the earth. 



140 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v. 

GENTLEWOMAN. 

Let's take her back to her chamber. 

ESTRELLA. 

Take her ! is't me ye'll take against my will ? 

I am not mad, minion : d'ye hear, I'm not : 

I want no keepers, good ye mistress Lynx ! 

They watch me ! they watch me ! but I'll cozen them. 

Faith, 'tis hot — I'm weary — I would sleep, — 

Faint, faint, — good night, sweet jailors, I will sleep. 

NURSE. 

For the first time this day she's still. Mercy on us, 
here be events ! here be befallings ! The young tree is 
cut down, blossom and all, and the old bark's left to 
rot standing. Hark ! 'tis the bell tolling for the exe- 
cution. O what a tide of folks is pouring towards the 
place ! I'd fain step and hear what's saying. Juana, sit 
thou by her while she sleeps — I'll be back anon. 

[Exit Nurse. 

GENTLEWOMAN. 

Poor lady, 'tis a troubled sleep, in sooth, and will not 
better her much. Who's there ? 

(Enter Livio.) 
Softly, my lady sleeps. 

LIVIO- 

O Juana, if ever thou didst see brave sight, come 
to the balcony in the east front : the streets be full 
of gazers, and the procession will be passing even anon. 

GENTLEWOMAN. 

A brave sight ! — a sad sight, and a solemn, I think. 
Why, Livio, I wonder at thee, — thou that hast seen 






scene v.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 141 

Don Carlos come hither, day after day, opening the 
gates to him in thine office. I think she sleeps soundly. 

LIVIO. 

Come, an' thou lov'st me, for a minute. 

GENTLEWOMAN. 

Well, I will come ; I would fain see him once again, 
poor gentleman ; he was a lovely young nobleman, — 
heaven save us all, — to come to such an end ! 

[Exeunt Ltvio and Gentlewoman. 

ESTRELLA. 

They're gone away — there's none left to watch me. 

Marry, I was not wont to be so guarded. 

What bell is that? I shall be late at the church ! 

Fie, the bride come too late ! Sweet marriage bells, — 

They've a strange twang withal — they should be faster. 

Bind up my hair, give me my rosary. 

Ha ! ha ! thou look'st but ill i' thy bloody cloak, 

Pedro ! Now, then, I'm ready, give thy hand — 

Cold, cold, clay cold, with lying i' the earth ! 

So — so — now then to church to make me a wife. 

[Exit. 



SCENE THE LAST.— A STREET IN SEVILLE. 



Enter estrella. 

ESTRELLA. 

That's an ugly tune, and savours like a dirge. 
O me, I've the heart-ache, yet I know not why — 



142 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v. 

Methinks there's something I should weep about. 
I am cold and weary— here I'll lay me down — 
Hard pillow for a bride; — good night, good nurse, 

(She lies down on the stones.) 
[A solemn march is heard without ; Soldiers pass 
over the stage ; Citizens crowd in on all sides to 
see the procession. 

FIRST CITIZEN. 

What's here on the ground ? 

SECOND CITIZEN. 

A dead woman. 

THIRD CITIZEN. 

Dead ! fainting, mayhap — no, sleeping, faith. 

ANTONIO. 

Stand back ! All saints defend us, 'tis the Lady 
Estrella. 

VASCO. 

Alone, untended, in this disordered attire, thus i' the 
streets. 

GERONIO. 

Raise her gently — so — so. 

estrella — ( waking.) 
Go to thy marriage-bed. 
Maiden, good night. 

Enter, guarded, with Friar and Executioner, Carlos. 

CARLOS. 

Hold ! hold ! i' the name of heaven, hold ! Estrella ! 

VASCO. 

Father, give her to him. 



scene v.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 143 

GERONIO. 

How he looks at her, 

As though his eyes should never turn again ! 

ESTRELLA. 

You're a strange man : why do you gaze at me ? 
I cannot bear your eyes, turn them away ! 
You make me "blush. Pray let me go. 

CARLOS. 

Estrella ! 

ESTRELLA. 

Ha! 

CARLOS. 

Dear Estrella ! 

ESTRELLA. 

Say't again ! again ! 
Sweet, though I weep, I love it — say't again ! 

CARLOS. 

My love ! my wife ! my wife ! 

ESTRELLA. 

Nay, now you mock me. 
I can laugh as well as cry. Ha ! ha ! Well, hear ye — 
I'll tell you the story of the gallant lover, 
Who stabb'd his lady's brother in the dark : 
Faith, that's a sad story — but he's damned, be sure, 
With the fiends in fire, for breaking his love's heart 
And murdering her brother. 

CARLOS. 

Horrible ! 
Another wreck upon this fated shore i 
Another curse fall'n on this evil day ! 
Her reason's gone, the precious crystal's flaw'd, 
And can reflect no true and entire image. 



144 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v. 

GUARD. 

Sir, the day wanes. 

CARLOS. 

I come. O for a pow'r 
Once more to bring the wandering spirit home ! 
Could she but know me once — once look on me 
With knowledge and perception, though to blast me 
With the lightning of her hate ! Estrella ! 

GUARD. 

Sir! 

CARLOS. 

Peace ! now she knows me ; look, the memory 
Breaks, ray by ray, like morning in her eyes. 

ESTRELLA. 

Pray do not leave me — pray you take me with you, 
For now my brother's dead — you know he's dead — 
They watch and prison me, and keep me close ; 
They will not let me walk abroad i' the day, 
Nor see the sun, nor breathe the sweet fresh air ; — 
They say I'm mad ! 

CARLOS. 

O torture ! 



GUARD. 
ESTRELLA. 

Ha ! ha ! ha ! how you grasp me. 

GUARD. 



Sir, 'tis time. 



Nay, move on. 



CARLOS. 

Stay, stay, a moment more ! one moment more ! 



scene v.] STAR OF SEVILLE. 145 

Dark — dark — she knows me not — farewell ! farewell ! 
Estrella ! O Estrella ! 

(He is forced out, she remains in the hands of An- 
tonio.J 

estrella. 
That was Carlos ! 
I know the voice ! I know the blessed sound ! 
Let go your hold ! Loosen your grasp, I say ! 
I heard him — ah ! I see him. Carlos ! Carlos ! 

(She rushes out, followed by crowd and Citizens.) 

Manent Isabel and Florilla. 

ISABEL. 

Florilla, I am faint ! I cannot stand ! 
But get thee after them, and see the end. 

FLORILLA. 

I can see here. (She mounts some steps.) 

heavens I through the throng 

1 see her white robe and her lifted arms — 

The crowd divides — she climbs the scaffold stairs — 
She stands beside him ! Ha ! that flash of light ! 
The axe ! the axe ! 

(A shriek is heard — Florilla descends the steps. 
Re-enter Antonio, Geronio, Vasco, Friar 
Rodriquez, Citizens, and Soldiers, bearing on a 
couch the body of Carlos and that o/Estrella.J 

RO DRIQUEZ. 

The chord is snapp'd, life's music is departed — 
The fire is out — our Star of Seville's set. 
Part not those bodies that in death are join'd, 
For though he should not lie in hallowed ground, 

l 



146 STAR OF SEVILLE. [act v. 

I'll instantly unto the Lord Archbishop, 
And use what prayers may most avail with him, 
That these who should this morn have been united 
In holy wedlock, may this night be laid 
Together in their narrow marriage-bed. 



THE END. 



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